Summertime Suspense
by CaileeChaos
Summary: During her last summer before college can Nicolette Sanders help her grandmother's new neighbors unlock the mystery to their home? Will she be able to save Matt Campbell from his impending death? But then again, maybe Matt isnt who needs saving. Matt/OC
1. Chapter 1

**Here it is! Finally! My second story for 'A Haunting in Connecticut'. It's a bit different from the last one; the supernatural isn't so heavy from the very beginning but the sense and the thrills of it all is still in the story; very much so but won't occur 'til later. So all you Jonah fans stick with me, he's coming. **

**This story follows Nicolette Sanders who bumps into Billy one day at school. Through an odd, but easy friendship with him she meets Matt and the rest of the Campbells. See a different take on 'A Haunting in Connecticut' through her eyes. **

**Enjoy. :] **

Have you ever had the urge to do something crazy yet slightly rational? Like the urge to burst out in song in the middle of the super market, just to make your friends laugh even though everyone will look at you like you're on drugs? Or the urge to kiss a cute boy at a school dance because you think he likes you, even on the chance that he might reject you? Well right the moment I have a very strong urge to punch Tucker Smith in the face; preferably the nose-it breaks easiest.

Tucker Smith has been my boyfriend since junior year and each time that fact crosses my mind, I shuddered, and wonder, "How? How in the hell did I make it that long?" Tucker, though as equally handsome as he was wealthy, was nothing more than a star athlete, destined to inherit his father's company and somehow squander the riches until his family is penniless. I realized all of this a long time ago, and now feel shallow for staying with Tucker for as long as I did.

The sudden metal clanging of double doors snapped me back to the realm of the living. I peered up at students as they began to disperse from the gym. I jumped off the bench I had been previously perched on and crossed my arms, waiting for my soon-to-be ex-boyfriend. My eyes flicked through the crowd lazily, attempting to spot him, and landed on a small, frail, blonde boy. The boy was rather tiny to be in high school so I assumed he had skipped a few grades. This, however, was not the reason he caught my attention. The thick layer of blood coating his upper lip and nose was. My muscles stiffened and something told me I more than likely knew who had caused that blood.

"Hey there babe," a sickeningly familiar voice drawled. I shot the eldest Smith son an irritated glare. Tucker didn't seem to sense my discomfort and draped an arm around my shoulders, "How was art? Mr. Maxwell give you your sculpture back yet?"

A brief image of the sculpture I had made last semester popped into my head. It was a hollow vase that held only a single rose. The rose, though beautiful and intriguing, broke and all that was left was the stem. I dreaded turning it in, but Tucker had State Finals so there was no way I had time to build another one. Thankfully, Mr. Maxwell said it was inspiring; a new way to see the glass as half full.

My lips pursed and I spoke, "Tuck, we need to talk."

"So talk," he grinned, his deep, chocolate hair falling dashingly into his eyes. Last semester I would have found this charming and sexy, now I found it revolting. What caused my sudden distain for him, I don't know. Maybe I've just gotten tired of his childish antics. It's time to grow up. There are more important things in life than keggers at Jim Reynolds house, or the latest Yankees game.

"You want to do this here?"

"Sure," he furrowed his brow. Rethinking his answer, he muttered, "Do what?"

I sighed. "The boy, the blonde with the bloody nose, what happened to him?"

"Nicolette if this is about that-"

"What happened to him, Tucker?"

"Nothing; it was no-"

"Tuck," I demanded.

"He was in my way, Sanders, what does it matter?"

"What does it matter? He was in your way so you punch him?" my voice elevated on its own. I was severely angry now; not only at him but at myself. I was stupid enough to give this guy two years of my life?

"Baby, come on-"

"Don't patronize me, Smith," I growled. Around us various members of the student body and the "Tucker&Nic" fan club were beginning to watch. "You can't just go around hitting people because you're bigger than them. It's ridiculous. When are you going to grow up?"

"What the hell is your problem? Is it that time of the month again?" My glare hardened and as I opened my mouth to speak, he continued, "Look, I didn't just hit him because he was there. It didn't happen like that-"

"I don't care how it happened. You shouldn't ha-"

"God, I'm not having this discussion with you again. You're not my mother," Tucker rolled his eyes. He turned to back away, my voice stopped him, "Good. Because I'm not having this relationship with you…not anymore…it's over."

"What?!" he spat. "Over some faggot freshman-"

"It's not him, it's-"

"Please don't pull the 'it's not you, it's me' bull-"

"Actually, I was going to say 'it's not him, it's you', Tucker. You're immature, reckless, and stupid. And we're through." I left him with an audience. Our peers stood, anxious to see how he would react. I ignored the stares and whispers as I plowed my way through the throng of teens and to the students parking lot. My father's ancient Buick was parked by the light pole, waiting patiently for me. As I stepped off the curb, someone caught my eye. It was the blonde boy from Tuck's gym class.

I gazed at him momentarily. Abruptly, I gave a sigh and trudged over to him. "You'll need some ice…probably some neo-suporen. Oh, and, ice will help the swelling too." The blonde-headed boy merely raised an eyebrow. I motioned my nose, "For you know…"

"I know what you're talking about…but why are you talking to me?"

I scoffed, "You have ears don't you? Ears meant for hearing? I talk, you hear…not exactly rocket science but-"

"I-I get it…" He fell silent and wouldn't look at me. I stood there searching for something to talk about, or something witty to say. Rocking back onto the heels of my shoes, I spoke to him, "Okay…well…good luck with that…and everything. And, uh, I'm sorry about…him. The guy who did that to you. He's just a jerk. It's nothing personal."

"Yeah, thanks," he muttered weakly. With a final sigh, I gave up; I reached my car, climbed in, started the engine, and began to pull out of the parking lot. My eyes couldn't stay off the boy, who still sat, paralyzed on the curb. I slowed down and pulled along side him, "Don't you have a ride?"

"My mom's on her way."

"Oh, okay, good…" I nodded. "From where?"

"St. Michael's."

"The hospital?"

"Yeah," he numbly nodded. "My brother goes there for his cancer."

"Oh," I bit my lip. "You know that's like, two hours away."

He squinted against the sun, "I know."

I glanced away from the frail boy. Tossing a look at the clock, I spoke, "It'll be five o'clock before she gets here…want a ride home? I can give you a lift."

"No thanks."

"Stranger danger, huh?"

"What?"

"Stranger danger? It's what they teach you in school about talking to strangers? No? Okay, forget it. Look, I have somewhere to be so if you want me to take you home, get in. If not, see ya."

Blondie hesitated before clutching onto his school bag and standing up. He walked around the hood and slid into the passenger seat. I pulled out of the parking lot, stopping at the fork in the road, "Where to?"

"460 West Chester Lane. It's in-"

"Lake Side. I know," I nodded. "A friend of mine use to live at 463. The blue two-story."

"The O'Briens?" He asked and I grinned, an image of Maggie O'Brien the fiery red-head from Dublin, Ireland popped into my head. Maggie was crazy; absolutely crazy. I remember going to a Def Leppard concert with her when I was sixteen. She threw her underwear on stage after she ripped them off in the mosh-pit.

"Yeah, the O'Briens."

"Their daughter was crazy," he mumbled.

"She was."

We lapsed into a silence and I drove to his house, the directions flowing from memory. In mere minutes we pulled up to a white, two-story home. The boy thanked me and left. As I backed down the driveway, I saw him knock on the door, the proceed to jiggle the handle. I sighed, "God, kid, this is just not your day."

I parked the car in front of their mail box, waved to one of their neighbors, and walked the path to the small porch. "Locked out?"

The boy, who seemed a bit startled by my sudden presence, nodded meekly. "Is there a dead bolt on the front door?"

"What?"

"A dead bolt, you know? A lock? The big kind?"

"Are you always so…pushy? Sarcastic?"

"Yeah, why?"

The boy rolled his eyes. "No reason. And no, there isn't. Why?"

"What about the back door?" The boys forehead creased. He hesitated before shaking his head, "No, actually."

I jogged back to my car, swiped out my driver's license, and led the boy to the back of the house. We scaled the fence and landed in his mother's garden. "Shit. Sorry."

"Not my garden," he shrugged. Using my driver's license, I managed to get the back door unlocked and let the blonde boy into his house. He let me inside for a minute, but only long enough to use their bathroom. Walking down the steps of the front porch, I muttered, "You should really tell your parents to get a dead bolt for the back door and to hide a spare key. Hide it out back though, burglars always check by the front door but they never look there."

"Thanks," he sort of smiled, the first one I'd seen him give. "Thanks for the ride too and…everything."

I shrugged, "No problem. I'd clean your face too, before your mom saw. I don't know if she's like mine, but my mother would have a heart attack if I came home looking like you do."

"Oh, gee, thanks."

"So not a problem," I punched the kid gently on the shoulder and receded to the Buick just as an old Station Wagon was pulling into the drive. In the driver's seat was a woman, most likely late thirties, and blonde like the boy. The guy in the passenger seat looked a lot like Blondie; he frail, pale, and blonde but looked taller than the kid, bigger too. I shot them a small smile. The woman peered at me curiously and exited the car. "Billy, we stopped by your school."

"I got a ride," Billy, a.k.a. Blondie, nodded toward me. It clicked in my brain that this woman was his mother, and the boy now walking towards them was his brother-the one with cancer. Suddenly, I felt uncomfortable. I sent a final, tight-lipped smile, before getting in my car, and driving home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Big thanks to my devoted readers/reviewers **coffeeandcigarettes **and **Raine33453. **You two rock. Another thanks to** .. **for sticking with us this time around. I hope you guys are into the new style I've taken on. Enjoy.**

**-*-**

Throughout the week following my break-up with Tucker, I ran into the blonde kid named Billy six times. Once in the cafeteria on my way to get a drink, once on the way to art, on various occasions in the parking lot or court yard, and twice in my World History class (he'd stopped by to give the teacher a few papers). Today, however, I had made it all day without any sign of him. My friend Chloe and I had just met up; we were on our way to debate team practice. Last semester I was team captain, now Chloe, myself, and two other seniors (Mark and Frank) are helping prepare juniors and sophomores for next years competitions.

We rounded the corner and headed to Mrs. Kelly, our debate team coach, when I spotted Billy idling on the curb. I halted and nudged Chloe, "Hey can you go on ahead and tell Mrs. Kelly I'll be there in a sec?"

"Sure, why?" she followed my gaze. "Who's that?"

"A…a friend of mine. I'll catch up with you."

"Oh…kay…just don't be too long. You know the sophomores get restless."

"Duly noted," I mumbled as I turned down the hall and jogged outside. I plopped down on the sidewalk next to the boy. "Hey Billy the kid. You're mom late again?"

Billy glanced at me before fixing his eyes on the road, "Yeah."

"Alright…come on," I stood and extended my hand.

"What?"

"I have debate team practice until four-fifteen but afterwards I can take you home."

"It's okay I can-"

"No seriously. What's more fun then watching a bunch of idiots yell and argue over a slice of pizza?"

"Pizza?"

"Mrs. Kelly, our coach, always orders pizza and drinks for practices. No get up, I'm gonna be late." So that's how I found myself giving Billy another ride home. As we pulled out of the school parking lot, I muttered, "So you're brother gets treatment at St. Michael's?"

"Yes," he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. I scrunched my nose. He must get tired of people always talking about his brother. Glaring at the road ahead of me, I tried to change the subject, "My grandmother lives about twenty minutes from there. I'm going to stay with her over the summer for a few weeks before college."

"Why?"

I shrugged, "She's not as bad as most grandmothers. She's actually really fun and a total night owl. She doesn't go to bed until around two and she's always making you laugh."

"I meant why are you spending your last summer with your grandmother instead of…partying or something?" he furrowed his brow, swiveling in the seat to look at me. I glanced at him before fixing my eyes on the road again. "I've never been one for extreme partying…I don't know. I figured I have to stay somewhere until my dorms available and I prefer there rather than at home with my parents."

At his curious look, I explained, "My mom's been a basket case ever since I accepted a scholarship to Brown."

"Brown?!" his jaw dropped. I grimaced, "Yes."

"That's a really good school."

"I know."

"Like, really goo-"

"Yeah, I know."

We fell into a silence. I pulled up his drive way moments later. Billy remained silent in the front seat. I glanced at him expectantly. "You okay?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, sorry," he reached out to grip the handle. "Thanks again for the ride."

"No problem, Billy," I nodded and began to back out the drive. Suddenly, the blonde boy spun on his heels, "Hey!"

"What?" I stuck my head out the window.

"What's your name?"

"Nic."

"Like…a guy?"

I gave a laugh, "Like Nicolette."

He broke out into a grin, "Thanks Nicolette."

It took me twenty minutes to get home. Upon entering my house, I immediately recognized the black shoulder bag laying abandoned by the couch. The red slip-on shoes by the door were another dead give away. Shannon was home. I peeked my head into the kitchen and sure enough there she sat, perched on the kitchen counter, one hand in a box of Tiny Teddies (chocolate cookies shaped like bears) and another hand gripping a coke.

"Glad to know you still let yourself in. How was Paris?"

"Exciting as shit. The men…God, Nic, I was drooling just looking at them. And when they spoke! Holy shit. I almost had an orgasm on the spot," she grinned, her pearly whites shining. Suddenly, she jumped off the counter top, dropped the coke and teddies and tackled me. The abrupt force of her weight knocked me into the wall with a brunt smack. Grunting in pain, I managed to limply hug her back. I heard the front door open and shut, my father suddenly appearing in the door way.

"Oh, well, hello there, Shannon; glad to see you made it back safely," he grinned.

"Hey pops," she smiled at my father. They quickly hugged before she returned to her afternoon snack. "So come on, dish, what's the latest drama?"

"Uh," I leaned against the wall. I let out a puff of air. "Nothing new really…Lindsey Dial's pregnant."

"No way!"

"Yep guess who's the dad-"

"Heckler," she shook her head. "Can you believe someone actually slept with him?"

"Can you believe she slept with him? She's like a walking supermodel but she chooses the slum of the school. It's ridiculous."

"I bet Mr. Dial kicked her ass-"

"Most likely," I agreed. I peered over at my best friend. Shannon Elizabeth Ross had been my best friend since fifth grade. We'd practically spent the last eight years of our lives together. We were typical best friends: we called each others parents mom and dad, we lived in each other's houses like they were our own, and we took pride in insulting the hell out of each other.

My father entered the kitchen, a tee shirt and jeans now his wardrobe contrasting against the business suit we'd seen him in just moments ago. "Staying for dinner?"

"Nope," she mumbled. "I gotta go home. Mom would flip if I spent my first night back here."

"I can't believe she let you come over. I figured she'd hold you hostage for at least a week."

"She doesn't know I'm back yet."

"What?" my father and I chorused. Shannon simply shrugged, "I told her my flight landed at six. Give me plenty of time to see people before she kidnaps me."

"It's not kidnapping when it's your child," I rolled my eyes.

"Unless you don't have custody," my father chimed; my father was a small claims court attorney. Shannon and I ignored him, as we usually did any of our parents, and made our way to the basement. There we stayed for hours catching up. She retold her trip to Paris as a foreign exchange students to the tee; skipping no details whatsoever. She showed me a few pictures she took. One with a French chef named Francis she'd met at a local bakery; one of her and her exchange family in front of the Eiffel Tower; one of a poodle; etc.

I broke the news to her about breaking up with Tucker. At which point her jaw hit the floor and she proceeded to hit me repeatedly. "Why didn't you call me?!"

"Long distance to Paris? Shan, my parents would have murder me." She claimed it was a shitty excuse. Still, she forgave me and divulged a secret loathing she'd begun to harbor for Tucker. We trash talked him for almost forty minutes before she realized she had to head back to the airport where her mom would be waiting to pick her up fat the terminal.

"You're terrible for lying to your mother like that, Shannon," my mother chirped when we headed out. "What if something would have happened and she would have had the wrong information?"

"Mom, nothing happened," I muttered wishing them a last goodbye. I drove Shan to the airport (she'd taken a cab to my house and used the spare key to get in). After I dropped her off I went inside and got my parents each cinnamon rolls for the _Cinnabon_ inside the A terminal. When my mom was pregnant with me she used to make my dad go get her cinnamon rolls at all hours of the night so it's sort of become a family joke.

On the way home, I saw a station wagon pulled over on the side of the rode. A slightly familiar looking blonde woman stood, leaning against the hood, a rather sullen look upon her face. My eyebrows furrowed and I pulled along the shoulder. I got out of my car and met her curious eyes. "Car trouble?" I called.

"Oh, what? No. My-my son, he got sick." I followed her gaze, my eyes landing on a hunch figure in the grass.

"Oh, oh wow. Is he okay? Do you need me get some help or something?"

"No, he'll be fine. This…this isn't the first time this has happened?"

"Is he sick or something?" A dark flicker flash across her the features of her trouble face. That was when I recognized her. It was Billy's mother, which meant the boy in the grass was his sick brother. I bit my lip. "I…I'm sorry. Is…there anything…I can do?"

The woman smiled kindly at me, "No, sweetie, but thank you for stopping. That was very considerate of you. Most people would have kept on going."

I nodded, "I'm, uh, Nicolette Sanders, by the way. I'm a friend of your son's…Billy."

"Oh," her nose scrunched. I winced realizing how that looked (me the senior, Billy the freshman, can you say pedophile?). "He's a great kid. He was interested in debate club. We kind of help freshman out."

"I see; well that's very kind of you." The woman cast a look over her shoulder at her other son. "I should check on him."

"Yeah…of course," awkwardly, I said goodbye and retreated to my car.

Once home, I gave my parents there cinnamon rolls, which they graciously ate after dinner, and I worked on an English essay over the Odyssey. Around nine o'clock I'd drifted to sleep only to wake again at twelve. I often wake up in the middle of the night, so this wasn't unusual. What was unusual was what woke me; I'd had a dream…about Billy Campbell. I dreamt of fire and screams. I couldn't decipher who was screaming or what they had said but I could feel it. I could feel Billy's desperate need for help. After panicking, I realized the screams where coming from within the fire. I went to help Billy escape the fire but when I got to the pit of the flames, the blonde Campbell boy I had rescued was not Billy, but in fact his brother.

At this point in the dream, I woke up, shooting out of bed, my body caked in sweat. Shivering, I changed clothes and went to the bathroom. I found it hard to sleep after that. I tossed an turned all night long until finally, around five, I managed to fall into a slight slumber, the cancer boy's face lingering in my mind.


	3. Chapter 3

**Check out the "Haunting in Connecticut" story "Summer Visit of Fright". It's pretty intense (but in a really awesome way). Also, I would like to thank everyone who reviewed. Again, you guys all rock my world. **

**Okay, so I'm not too thrilled about this update. I really wanted to get it out and published but I had to force a lot of it out. It's not my best work. And for that I'm sorry. I've gone back several times and tried to make it better but I just…can't. Anyway, I hope you still like it. Let me know if it's just terrible. **

**-*-**

The dream disturbed me to no end. I was paranoid of fire for almost three weeks post-nightmare. Thankfully, I had a lot of things to distract me because graduation was looming near and I was preparing for college. I'd already gone to orientation at Brown, picked out my dorm, been assigned my roommates (Allisa Brown and Cameron Phillips), and met one of my professors. Mr. Cline, who was a mythology professor. Though mythology had nothing to do with my major, theater, I had always found mythology amazing. I believe my essay on the Odyssey slightly inspired me to register for the class.

Suddenly, a knock on my door snapped my out of my thinking. I raised my head, glancing at the door, "What?"

"So sweet, aren't we?" Shannon's voice came as she pried open the door. My brow furrowed, "Since when do you knock?"

"Since I brought a tag-along," as she entered my room, her boyfriend, Thomas, appeared. I nodded in his direction, "Hey, Tommy."

"How's it going, Nic?"

"Pretty good. You?"

"Same-"

Shan cut me off, "Well that's great and all, but we need you to get dressed."

I groaned, pulled my legs up to my chest in a subconscious form of protest. "Why?"

"Because we are going on a double date."

"With my imaginary boyfriend Gabriel?"

"Yep," Shannon grinned. "Imagine how it will look: me and Thomas on one side, you and no one on the other. I kiss Tom, so to make it even you kiss the air-"

"Shut up, faggot," I glared tossing a pillow at her head. "Get out. No one wants you here-"

"Thomas doe-"

"He doesn't want you in my room. He wants you in _his_." We both looked to Thomas. He shrugged, "Well…I cannot tell a lie-"

"Oh God, shut it. Seriously, Nicolette. Get ready. Tame your hair and put on a nice outfit. We're going to double with Randy."

"Randy? Randy Gaston?" I scoffed. Tommy looked offended, "Hey, he's a cool guy."

"Sure he is, if you want me to date the Jolly Green Giant. What is he? Seven-three?"

"Nic, he's six-one!"

"Whatever, the man's a lumberjack. I'll look so vertically challenged standing next to him."

"We'll it's a good thing we'll be sitting. We're going to dinner and the movies."

Again, I gave a groan, but after much arguing, I found myself sitting in a booth at the local diner, waiting on Randy to meet us. He was running late because his truck had gotten a flat tire. I glared at Shannon and Tom from over my third coke. "Could you to be anymore into PDA?"

Tommy smirked, "You need to get laid." With that he then drove his tongue down Shan's mouth. I felt the back of my throat expand in a reflective gag. I scooted out of the booth, "Excuse me, I have to go vomit."

I made my way to the bathroom. Instead of throwing up, I washed my face in the sink, successfully taking off the layers of make-up Shannon had demanded I cake over my face. I then proceeded to hid in one of the stalls. I stared at the four walls, reading various sentences and names, either carved or written into them. "Tammie was here!" "Paul 3's Linda!" "334-5676 CALL ME." That last one caused me to raise an eyebrow. I hoped a male had snuck into the bathroom and written his number, other wise the lesbian population of New York was going to rise. Don't get me wrong, I'm not against lesbians, I just think fishing for them in the bathroom is a little…well, odd. Then again, men trying to get girls in the bathroom is weird as well.

As I thought that, another realization popped into my head: hiding in the bathroom is odd too. And pathetic. Don't get me wrong, Randy is a really nice guy. He's just…well, a giant. I know it seems super shallow but it's not like that. The reason I'm so nervous is the fact that I can't help but stare at the man every time I'm around him. I'm amazed by his mere presence. Half the time I'm tempted to ask, "So Randy, how's the weather up there?" How the hell am I going to make it through an entire date?

With some hesitation and a final sigh, I exited the stall and left the girl's restroom. Regrettably, I saw Randy sitting in the booth across from Shannon and Thomas. I lifted my hand and gave a wave as I moved over. However, the abrupt calling of my name stopped me. I turned my head sharply to the left to see Billy Campbell with his mother, brother, and three people I didn't recognize. I glanced over at the trio and motioned I'd be a minute. I moved over to Billy's table and said hi.

"Hey, you remember my mom, and my brother, Matt. This is my dad, and my cousins, Wendy and Mary," Billy stood, pointing at them as he spoke. I waved to them as he as he introduced me as Nic Sanders. "Want to sit?"

"Oh, uh, I'd love to…but I can't," I spoke reluctantly. "I'm…kind of…sort of on a date." I jerked my thumb over my shoulder in the direction of our booth.

"Oh," he muttered.

"Yeah, I'm not too thrilled about it either."

"Then ditch them," his brother interjected. Their mother sneered at him, "Matt."

"What?" he shrugged. "Tell them we're your relatives from out of town or something."

I peered at him for a moment. Attempting to think of a flaw in his plan. I bit my lip softly, "I wouldn't want to intrude."

"Nonsense," their father mumbled. Their mother nodded too, "Yes, but we understand if you can't."

"I really…shouldn't…" but as I looked over towards my waiting party. "I…"

"I'm sorry, I can't," I finally stated. "I wish I could, but it would be really rude on both parts."

"We understand," their mother smiled. "But it was nice to see you again."

"You too. It was nice to meet you all," I grinned softly at his family, my eyes lingering on their father. I noticed that the two cousins resemble him but both of his son's looked more like their mother. "See you at school, Billy."

As I turned to walk away, I stopped, "Oh, Mrs. Kelly said you did wonderfully at practice the other day. She wants you to consider going out for debate next year."

Blondie paused for a second, "Will do."

"Cool. Come by next Wednesday and we'll talk to her about. I'll give you a ride," I smiled. When I rejoined Shannon and Thomas, Randy pecked me on the cheek. I squirmed a bit but managed to remain cool, calm, and completely freaked out. We quickly ate and headed to the movies. It was decade day at the theater; they were playing The Wizard of Oz. Honestly, I don't understand all the hype about this movie. I see nothing spectacular about it and to be perfectly honest the monkeys freak me out a bit.

After the movie, Shannon drove me home while Thomas and Randy departed for baseball practice. At the end of the date, Randy tried to kiss me. Skillfully, I diverted his lips, forcing them to land on my cheek. Awkward is a word which does not properly explain the level of tension in the air subsequent to the kiss.

"So…?"

"So what?"

Shannon rolled her eyes at me, "How was it?"

"The movie? Stupid. Why the hell did she melt? What was up with that?"

"Nicolette."

I rolled my eyes. I glanced over at her, her eyes were darting between me and the road as she waited for my answer. I sighed quietly and shrugged, "Fine…it was fine. Randy's really sweet he's just…not my type. And I just broke up with Tuck-"

"A month ago!"

"Still-"

"And you broke up with him! Move on."

"I am," I snapped defensively. "Just not with Tucker."

"Name one guy you've been interested in since you broke up with Tucker."

This caused me to stop. I hadn't really thought too much about guys since I broke up with Tucker Smith. In fact, the only boy I'd really been around was Billy. But that wouldn't be a sufficient answer. Then again there was Billy's brother…I had thought about him…but only because of the dream. Which brings up the question, 'Why was I dreaming about him?' Chewing on my lip, I muttered, "Matt Campbell."

"Who?" she asked as we pulled into my driveway. We both exited the car, entering the house, saying hi to my parents, and disappearing into my room. "Matt Campbell," I repeated as I plopped down onto my bed. "Billy's brother."

"The freshman you've been stalking?"

"I haven't been stalking him!"

"The freshman that's been stalking you?"

"Shan-"

"Okay, yeah, whatever. Who's Matt?"

"His brother."

"Yeah, no I'd gather that, genius, I mean who is he?"

"He doesn't go to our school because he has cancer…he goes to my grandmother's hospital in Goatswood for treatment."

Shannon glared at me, "Real nice, Nic. Pick a guy with cancer. Way to avoid commitment."

"Shannon! That's terrible."

"I'm not joking," she chuckled. I continued to glare at her. She simply shrugged. "So what's he like…?" She asked moments later after we'd lapsed into a silence, the dull radio in the corner of my room playing. I hadn't noticed she'd turned it on and for a moment froze. I shrugged, "He looks like his mom…he's funny…"

I racked my brain trying to think of things I knew about him. I'd only met him twice: the afternoon when I first gave Blondie a ride home, and that day when he got sick on the side of the road. I thought back on both those times. The second time, he had been wearing some sort of sports jersey…I concentrated hard, before coming to a conclusion, "He's a Yankees fan."

"The baseball team?"

"Yep."

"Hmm…Tommy's a fan too. Maybe they could hang out-"

"He isn't my boyfriend, Shan. I just…I…was thinking about him," I mumbled trying to figure out where I stood in this conversation. Shannon sat up and started to pull out my art supplies. I figured she was going to paint; an activity she often did when we were at the house and bored. She smiled at me, "Thinking is good."

Images of the nightmare flooded my mind. "Sometimes…"


	4. Chapter 4

**Here it is. Chapter four. Thank you so, so, so much to everyone who has review! I would name you all right now but my computer is being super slow and it would take forever to open a new page. I promise you will all get credits in the next update. Enjoy and let me know how it is. :D **

**-*-**

"Benjamin Dale Rodriquez. Kimberly Anne Rogers. Michael Jay Rogerson. Shannon Elizabeth Ross. Anthony Cooper Ruiz. Bradley Paul Sam. Kayla Marie Sandefur. Daniel Franklin Sanderfur. Nicolette Shae Sanders."

At the sound of my name, I heard shouts. My family…Shannon…most likely Thomas…perhaps Billy…my friends on the debate team…my peers from the volleyball team…perhaps a few teachers…definitely Mrs. Kelly…maybe Billy's family. I stood from the lawn chair and walked over to the stage. I walked carefully up the stairs, a silent prayer running through my brain, replaying like a stuck eight-track. I shook hands with our principal, took my diploma, and walked over to the other side of the stage. I smiled and faced the crowd; the familiar faces of the same people I'd known since kindergarten, a few missing here and there, replaced with new ones.

Gingerly, I lifted my fingers, grasped the tassel, and switched it to the other side of my cap. I was officially a high school graduate. I gave a small wave with my none-diploma'd hand and turned, slipping off the stage, and over into my seat. The rest of the ceremony went off easily and soon, I found myself shaking hands with all my teachers, hugging fellow graduates, and smiling at passers by.

As I had predicted, Billy and the Campbell clan were all there. I hugged Billy, shook hands with his parents, and waved to his cousins and brother. I introduced them all to my parents, Shannon, and Thomas who had idled over. Shannon smiled widely and hinted to the point of embarrassment when Matt was introduced. I thought I was going to have to kill her on the spot.

Finally after all the hustle and bustle of graduation was over and the weeping parents went home, I went home to change. I'd be meeting up with Shannon, Thomas, Randy, and a slew of other graduates at Bradley Sam's house on fifty-fourth street. I took of my cap and gown, my debate team captain ribbon, and my honor's pin, placing them in the dry cleaners bag. I placed it on the hanger and into my closet. I quickly dresses and pulled up my hair.

I said goodbye to my parents after being congratulated for the thousandth time. I kissed their cheeks and left. I decided just to walk to Bradley's house considering it was only four blocks away. As I was turning around the corner, I saw a brown station wagon passing by. The car slowed to a stop and Mrs. Campbell stuck her head out the passenger side when down. "Hey, honey, need a ride?"

"Oh, hi, uh, no ma'am. I'm just on my way to a friend's. His house is three away," I pointed to the large, brick house littered with teens. Cars lined the streets and loud music could be heard from inside. "Graduation party."

"Oh, well, have fun," she smiled. I grinned in return, spotting Matt and Billy in the backseat. Behind them, their cousins. I instantly felt guilty. Matt must have been my age…I bet it sucked not being able to go to school and interact with kids. "Uh, you know what…Matt, Billy, why don't you and your cousins join us?"

"That's very nice of you but I don't think-" But Billy cut his mother off, "Mary's only seven so I don't think it would be a great idea for her to go…but Matt, Wendy, why don't you two go?"

"Billy, she's your friend, it would be rude for us to invite ourselves along," Wendy whispered to her cousin, not very well, might I add.

"Nonsense, Wendy, Matt, you're both completely welcome to come."

Matt glanced at his brother, then at their parents. Billy shifted in his seat, nodding vigorously, "Go guys; I'm going over to David's anyway."

"Well I don't know…" Mrs. Campbell smiled tensely. Beside her, her husband finally spoke, "Matt, Wendy, if you want, go and have a good time."

After a few encouraging words from Billy and my reassurance that they would be completely welcome to come, they both exited the car. Matt looked slightly uneasy, but overly excited while Wendy seemed unaffected by the invitation. "So, Wendy…you look our age, why aren't you in school?"

"Oh, I already graduated two months ago. I go to school back west in Washington. I'm just down for the summer…"

I nodded, "Cool…where in Washington?"

"Seattle."

"The home of coffee," I grinned. Matt, Wendy, and I approached the house, saying hello to a few people on the way. We entered the large home and instantly ran into Shannon, "I see you brought a few tag-alongs."

"Don't feel spited by her calling you tag-alongs," I whispered to them. "She thinks that tag-along is a cute pet name."

Matt sort of pursed his lips. I shook my head, "No seriously. She calls her boyfriend Tommy that all the time."

"Hey babe-"

"Speak of the devil. Guys, this is Shannon Ross, my best friend, and her boyfriend Thomas McCord. Tom, Shan, this is Matt Campbell, and his cousin Wendy," I motioned to each of them when an all-too familiar voice crept into my ears.

"…it was right on time. Dude, he was toasted. It was hilarious!"

I glanced over in Tucker's direction, my face subconsciously forming a scowl. Grimacing, I faced the group again. Wendy frowned, "Friend of yours?"

"Oh they were _very _friendly," Thomas smirked.

"Shut up," I snapped as Shan smacked his arm. "Gross, Tommy."

"He's my ex…" I mumbled to Matt and Wendy. Wendy sort of laughed, "Nice."

"Thanks…not one of my finer decisions. But hey, we learn from our mistakes right…"

"Uh oh," Shannon muttered.

"'Uh oh's not good," Matt noted as we followed her eye line. Tucker Smith was looking in our direction, making a bee line straight over. I sighed, "Great. Uh, Thomas, why don't you show Matt and Wendy were to get a drink?"

"Sure thing," he nodded but as they went to leave, Tucker slipped over. "Shannon, Thomas…Nic…"

"What do you want, Smith?"

"So we're on the last-name bases again, huh? I thought we were closer than that."

"Obviously not."

"Look, Tuck, you guys are over. Why don't you just move on?" Shannon spoke, slipping to my side. Thomas flanked her, Matt and Wendy standing awkwardly to the side.

Tucker didn't bother to look at her as he quipped, "Why don't you mind your own business, Ross?"

"Why don't you back off, Smith?" Thomas growled stepping forward.

"Or you'll what?" Tucker shot back. I felt my anger began to build up, but stood in front of Thomas, "Go crawl back to whatever hole you've been hiding in these past few months? No one wants you here. I can't even believe Bradley invited you."

"He didn't," Thomas scoffed. "He gate crashed."

"Wow," I rolled my eyes. "See…that's exactly why I dumped you. You were a nothing in high school and you'll be a nothing afterward…"

I turned away from him, smiling awkwardly at the Campbell teens. "Sorry about that…why don't we go get something to drink? I can introduce you guys to some better company…"

"Sure thing," Wendy smiled. Matt was staring over my shoulder at what I can only assume was Tucker. Gradually, he looked at me, smiling softly, "Let's go."

"Who they hell is he?"

I rolled my eyes, ignoring Tucker as I pointed Wendy in the direction of the kitchen. She nodded and started to weave through the crowd. "Who the hell-"

"Tucker," Thomas snapped. Suddenly, someone gripped my arm and I was wheeled around. Facing Tucker, I glared, "Let go of me."

"Hey, man, leave her alone," Matt stepped up to him. I winced. Not in the pain of Tucker's grasp, but for Matt. Matt was a stick figure compared to Tucker who body pressed two-fifty a day. He would crush Matt, if not kill him…

"Who the hell are you?" Tuck growled at Matt.

"Fuck off, Tucker," I snarled as Thomas pulled him off of me. He fought against Tommy and it took another one of Thomas's friends to help get my mentally unstable ex-boyfriend outside. Facing Matt, my face burned with embarrassment. "I'm really sorry about that…he…well…-"

"I see why you dumped him," Matt smiled awkwardly. I shrugged, "Yeah…how about those drinks?"

Matt, Wendy, and I hung out at the party until around three that morning. We mingled with almost everyone there; Shannon, Thomas, Bradley, Heather Strong; Anthony Ruiz, Travis Harper, William Dreyton, a few random juniors who had popped up, and so many other people. Wendy occasionally strayed to talk to some people on the other side of the room, or when a friend called her to introduce her to some people. Matt, however, stayed by my side the entire evening. At first it kind of freaked me out. I found him about two feet from me at all time. Needless to say, we talked a lot. I found out that Matt is not a Yankees fan; it's his dad's old jersey. He wore it because they hadn't done laundry in a while.

I also found out that he doesn't drink, he prefers sausage pizza, he thinks David Bowie is a freak (as do most of the male population but I think he's neat), he likes baby sitting his cousin Mary, he hates orange juice, he would rather be deaf than blind, and that he loves to run but since his cancer over took him last year he hasn't gotten to run much.

After the party died, we walked to my house and I drove them home. They realized they were locked out and they didn't want to wake up their family. I told them to look for a spare key out back. Sure enough, Billy had taken my advice and placed a spare key under heater that sat on the back porch. I told them goodbye and waited until I was sure they'd gotten in.

I made my way home and passed out on my bed, not before seeing a note that Shannon had somehow gotten onto my night stand. It wasn't really that surprising; Shannon had a spare key to my house. However, why she would sneak in at four in the morning just to drop off a note was a little puzzling.

Lazily, I lifted my fingers and snatched the note off the wooden stand. The paper crunched in my hold and as I slowly read it, a smile formed on my lips. _Nic. I like Matt. He's cute…keep thinking about him. -Shan _I continued to grin at the note before playfully rolling my eyes and balling it up. I squished it down into a small ball and propped up on my elbows. I lifted my hand and tossed. It circled the rim and fell over the edge onto my floor. Yep, that's what you get for playing basketball in the dark…


	5. Chapter 5

**A very happy birthday to Lanor. :] I cannot believe you are thirty-one…you look twelve. Ha ha. **

**As promise via chapter four, I wanted to thank everyone who has review in the last few weeks : **Twilight'sLucy, Raine44354, coffeeandcigarettes, ILuvOdie, .., ANMProductions, Puddy19, Torn In Two, Lotus Spirit, -wishing-for-peace, dudeFML, **and** LoveIsAlways. **All of you are honestly amazing; thank you so much.**

**-*-**

"Nana…Nana! Stop," I shouted to my grandmother. I playfully glared at the fifty-four year old woman. She shrugged her shoulders, a small laugh rippling through her short body. She tossed my underwear back and smiled, "Still, even _I _don't wear granny panties."

"Nana, I honestly have no desire what-so-ever to know what kind of briefs you wear, so please can we just drop this conversation?"

Jeanine "Nana" Sanders was not an old woman. She had my mother when she was sixteen and my mother had me when she was twenty. My mom and Nana have never been terribly close because of their contradicting personalities. Nana likes bright colors, wild life, and growing her own food whereas my mother squeals when she sees a fly, thinks baby pink is too exciting, and would rather die than sit in dirt. I, however, am ridiculously close to my grandmother. We often chit-chat on the phone and I try to visit her at least once every month.

I'd been at her house for two days now and so far I've gotten three hours of sleep, including my thirty-minute nap on the couch. Another thing about Nana: she doesn't require sleep. The woman is a night owl who goes to bed at three and gets up at six-thirty every single, solitary morning. It's abnormal; I don't know how she does it.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," she offered. As I stuffed my underwear back into my dresser draw, I heard her answer the still ringing bell. With a sigh, I glanced around my room. It hadn't changed since I'd been here last. My bed was still covered with a mountain of plush pillows bought at what I'm sure was a ridiculous price; the Persian rug still covered every inch of hardwood floor; my desk was still littered with every office supply known to man; my paint easel still sat in the corner of the room by the bay window; the books on the shelf still sat untouched; all in all it was still as homey as my own home.

Mrs. Perkins, a close friend of my grandmother's and a huge gossiper, was the one who dropped by. She brought over a plat of ginger snaps as a welcome back gift for me. As we sat at the table eating them and some warm milk, she turned to Nana with a huge grin, "I was at the salon this morning-"

"I thought your hair looked different," my grandmother remarked quietly. Mrs. Perkins ignored the slight interruption and continued, "…and Elizabeth Marshall said someone finally bought the old Aikman home from Mr. Mullins. Said it was big family. White. About five kids or so, and their parents."

"God," I scoffed. "But I guess the place is big enough-"

"I just couldn't see raising a family in that place," Nana shook her head, biting into a cookie.

"I know. It's a shame what happened there…but that _was_ a long time ago. And it's been restored. I bet it's a nice place now," Mrs. Perkins noted. "According to Elizabeth the mother and son stayed last night and are waiting on the rest of the family to move in sometime this weekend."

"It amazes me that amount of knowledge you old women can dig up," I commented, flashing them a teasing grin.

As there conversation drifted from the new neighbors, my thoughts went back to the stories I'd heard about the large house that sat just across the street from Nana's. The brutal images that flashed through my mind sent shivers down my spin. Immediately, I dropped back into the discussion about Molly Hicks, a local whore who just broke up yet another marriage.

My grandmother and Mrs. Perkins sat for nearly three hours talking about this, that, and everything in between before Mrs. Perkins rose from the table, thanked us for the milk, and excused herself. Nana showed her to the door and with a final call of goodbye to me, Mrs. Perkins left. I cleared the table and wiped it down, polishing off a glass of milk. When Nana reentered the kitchen she spoke, "I suppose we should bake something…"

"For the hell of it?"

She faked a glare at my language and smartass-ness. "No, for the newcomers. Maybe a cake…or brownies…" she trailed off listing other pastry dishes and options. Finally she decided on lemon squares, "Everyone loves a good lemon square. We'll drop them off this afternoon."

"Shouldn't we wait?"

"For…?"

"The rest of their family. So we can meet them all."

She shrugged, "I suppose that wouldn't hurt. Well, either way we've got to make a trip to the store. I'm out of lemons."

"Want to go now? I need to go into town anyway. I need more paint and toothpaste," I asked leaning against the counter as I washed off my hands on a dish towel. Nana nodded and disappeared into the laundry room. I listened as the drier opened and clothes; a dial was turned; detergent was poured; and a new load was started. She emerged from the room with a wicker basket full of clothes. "Go on and get your shower, we'll go and have lunch somewhere."

"Yes ma'am," I smiled. I lifted off the counter and dashed up the stairs. It didn't take me long to shower, get clothed, and ready so while I waited on Nana to finish, I headed down stairs. Pulling myself up onto the bar, I picked up the phone and dialed. It rang twice before she answered, panting, "Bad time Sanders."

"Ew," I muttered. "Hi Thomas."

"Hey, Nic," I heard him in the background. His voice was rough and I could only imagine what they were doing. "Call me later then?"

"Sure thing," Click. Scoffing, I mumbled, "Well bye." I dialed another number. Three rings and my mother answered, "Hi sweetie."

"Hey mom. Has Brown mailed my schedule yet?"

"Nope. Not yet. Wait, I haven't checked the mail today. Give me just one second, okay?"

"Kay," I responded, propping the phone up between my ear and shoulder. I pulled my hands up to my face for inspection. My nails were shorter than I would have liked, the red polish chipped in small specks. As waited for my mother to return to the phone I picked at my nails, only to have the line die on my two minutes later. With a frustrated sighed, I hoped off the counter. "Note to self: stop calling people who are just going to hang up."

About ten minutes later my mother called back apologizing profusely; my dad had hung up the phone not knowing of our on-hold call. Brown had not sent my schedule yet. Mom promised to phone as soon as it arrived at the house. With a few more bits of small talk, we hung up and Nana and I departed for town.

"Look's like the new neighbors are moving in today," she muttered as we pulled out the drive way and saw a moving truck. A blonde headed boy was pulling a lamp out the bed of a truck and my eyes squinted. He looked slightly familiar but their house was about forty yards from the road so there was no way I could see his face clearly. I shrugged, then responded, "I guess so."

My eyes stayed on the blonde figure as we drove down the road, until he was out of sight. Shifting in my seat, I face forward, "I wonder what they're like."

"Probably nice folks. People who have big families are generally nice and well kept. Might be a little hectic though but that's to be expected when there's a lot of people around…if they're half as normal as the house's last occupants were then they'll be fine," my grandmother gave a low chuckle at her own joke. I rolled my eyes but smiled despite myself. I watched the town flash by as we drove, the trees, people, houses, and buildings blurs as her small car sped down the road. When we finally reached our desired spot [a local food joint called Mick's], we parked the car and headed inside.

"What can I get you two?" our waitress was sort of pudgy, as were most of the middle aged women in Goatswood. Nana sat up and smiled at the woman, "I'd like a lemon water and the steak platter."

"And you…?"

"Sweet tea-"

"We don't serve sweet tea," she quickly spoke. One thing about the Yankee states that always bothered me was the fact that restaurants rarely have sweet tea, a drink my mother had always had at home. Shrugging, I muttered, "Coke then…and um, just a side of fries. Please."

"A side of fries? Cutting back on eating?" Nana raised an eyebrow as she handed he menu to our waitress.

"Perhaps. I know I could stand to lose a few pounds-"

"Nicolette-"

"I'm kidding. I'm just not that hungry today."

"Since when are you not hungry?"

"Uh…today?"

Nana snorted a laugh, "I forget how much of a smartass you are."

"Geez, grandma, language," I joked, tossing her a wink. The waitress brought our food and drinks moments latter. We fixed them up with ketchup and hot sauce, a little bit of salt and pepper, then scarfed it down. After we paid and grabbed some mints, we made our way over to the local crafts store. Nana picked up a few extra pillows to toss on my bed and some extra cake pans before we went to the grocery store. We got all the ingredients needed to bake her lemon square plus a box of brownie mix incase they turned out bad, my toothpaste, blue and red paints, and a jug of orange juice. Once we had everything we needed, we browsed the isles for almost two hours. When we left we had almost two hundred dollars worth of junk food, assorted candies, and a handful of cassette taps.

"I don't know how I go into a store needing twelve items and spend three hundred dollars on useless junk!" Nana chided herself as we were lugging the groceries inside.

"It's not junk, its food. You need food to live, you know? And it wasn't three hundred it was like, one ninety-six."

"Still! That's my water and electric bill for this month."

I shrugged, "So we wont have electricity and warm water. We'll go retro. It'll be like those plantation homes grandpa use to take us too."

My grandfather use to be obsessed with the American Revolution. When I was younger he would take me and my cousins on road trips to the Carolina's and Georgia looking at old plantations and battle fronts. Once he even paid so that we could stay at one of Colonial war grounds over night. We tented on the battle field and watched the stars as he retold the Boston Tea Party. He passed away when I was fourteen; drunk driver.

We made the lemon squares; they turned out marvelous and we packed them onto a platter, wrapping cling wrap over them and securing to the top a welcome card Nana's picked up at the store. I freshened up a bit, brushing through my thick locks and applying a new coat of lip gloss and soon, we trekked across the road and up the driveway of her new neighbors house. I spotted a deep purple truck in the drive way next to a brown station wagon and I couldn't help but get a sense of déjà vu.

Nana wrapped her knuckles on the door three times. We could hear distant shouts, muffled through the door. I glanced at her, giving a light shrug, then proceeded to reach over and ringing the door bell. More muffled shouts before the door swung open revealing a small little girl. My eyebrows furrowed as I recognized her. "Aren't you-"

"Hi, can I help you with something?" a tall blonde woman appeared behind the little girl.

"No ma'am, I'm Jeanine Sanders, I live across-" but I cut my grandmother off, "Sara?!"

"Hey, mom, who was at the…Nic…?" Billy appeared behind his mother, Matt, Wendy, and their father following. "What are you doing here?"

"Please tell me you didn't follow us all the way to Connecticut," Matt grinned, shadowing over his little brother. I snorted a laugh, "No way, you followed me. I arrived two days ago. What are you guys…I mean…why'd you move here?"

"You know these people?" Nana asked beside me.

"Oh right! Sorry. Um, everyone this is my grandmother, Jeanine. Nana, this is the Campbell family."

"Hi," Sara extended her hand. "I'm Sara Campbell. This is my husband, Peter."

"How do you do?" he asked, shaking my grandma's hand.

"How do you all know Nicolette?"

"I go, err, went to school with her," Billy smiled up at me.

"And who are you?"

"I'm Billy."

"He's our youngest son," Sara explained then introduced Matt, Wendy, and Mary. After we were all acquainted, Sara apologized for keeping us waiting outside. She ushered us into the kitchen were we all sat down and ate lemon squares. I have to say, for someone trying to cut back on eating I tend to have sweets and milk a lot.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello everyone. First off let me apologize thoroughly for my un-announced short term hiatus. These past three weeks have been certifiably insane. To start, I began school again. Six classes, eight hours a day, then two online college courses. Then, we moved half-way across town. Also it was my sister's birthday. And I got a job. So between school, packing, moving, un-packing, working, and a party, I have had very little time to write. **

**I have missed you all very much. I hate to admit it, but even though I've found the time to write this chapter and my schedule has let up a bit, I'm still swamped with work. I WILL continue this story, as well as my others, but the chapters will be slow to come. Again I apologize. To make up for it, I made this part extra long. **

**Thank you all for sticking with me and reviewing/reading! It's greatly appreciated. :D Now show me how much you missed me and review! **

**-*-**

"So you aren't stalking me? Are you sure?" I'd asked Billy Campbell last night as my Nana and I prepared to leave his home. Grinning, he followed us to the door, "Nope. I promise."

"Then why are you here?" Billy gripped the door and showed my grandmother out. Pausing, he glanced behind me, the stepped onto the porch. Nana said her goodbyes then retreated down the drive. As we stood on the wooden porch, Billy gave a sigh. I glanced over at the young, blonde boy. He was staring passed me, his eyes traveling the length of his family's property. Finally he mumbled, "Matt."

It was there on his front porch at dusk that Billy explained to me the severity of his brother's cancer. Calmly, he spoke of how his sibling was on the cusp of death. I listened quietly as he spoke, trying to comprehend most of what he was saying. I didn't know much about cancer, any type, so when he started using medical terms, I asked him to slow it down and further explain. Concluding, he sat down on the steps, "It's just gotten worse…so much worse. Mom cries every night. She thinks we can't hear her but we do, we always do. Matt and Wendy play it off like it's no big deal, like he's fine. But I know it's not. We wouldn't have moved here if it wasn't."

"But the treatment at St. Michael's will help, right?" I muttered.

"I don't know," he shrugged, wearily glancing at me. "It should but there's never a guarantee with these types of things."

"Well, then perhaps the treatment's simply a precaution and his condition is stable."

"Maybe…"

Hearing the desperation, the loss of hope in Billy's voice washed over me. All that night I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Sometime around six-forty this morning, I threw back the covers with a grunt, and climbed out of bed. I remember trudging down stairs where Nana sat at the bar, already sipping her coffee. She made some comment remarkably close to, "Holy hell, the apocalypse must be coming. It's not even noon and you're out of bed."

I glared in response and mumbled some not so nice words under my breath. I shuffled over to the sink and fixed a glass of water. I spent the remainder of the morning showering, dressing, and eating a small breakfast that consisted of an orange and half an apple accompanied by a cup of juice. After eating, I began to perfect my appearance; I.E. applying make-up, brushing my teeth, and taming my hair. As I did so, the reason for my insomnia continued to itch away at my insides. I pictured Billy's face as he spoke of Matt's illness. I heard his words echoing in my mind. My train of thought then drifted to the eldest Campbell boy. The previous night he'd seemed groggy and tired but other than that, he was perfectly normal, chatting and joking with the rest of us. I wondered if he had been hiding his sickness; playing the part of the healthy kid for the sake of his family.

It was because of that wonder that I now find myself walking around Goatswood with said cancer patient. After I finished getting ready, I'd gone to their house, knocked on the door, and asked if Matt was home. When he came to the door, I asked to speak with him privately; he explained that the house was in chaos-boxes, packed and empty, were scattered throughout, packing peanuts littered the floors, and furniture lay haphazardly everywhere. Stupidly, I suggested we go for a walk around the neighborhood. Of course, I didn't consider that in his weak state excess physical exercise was best avoided.

About ten blocks into the walk, he apologized and shyly asked if we could stop for a minute. I hurriedly agreed. We sat on the side walk in front of a small, one-story home. Inside the muffled barking of a dog could be heard. We both rested on the concrete. I pulled my knees up to my chest, my hands placed on them. "I'm sorry I should-"

"No, no, it's completely fine. I just, ah…my shoes are kinda tight."

Why he would lie was beyond me. Perhaps it was manly pride. Or a joke. I couldn't tell; his small smile was throwing me off. I nodded like I understood and shook my head, "Of course."

A steady silence drifted over us. Quiet as the grave (no deathly pun intended), we basked in the light of the sun's powerful rays. The heat made my skin tingle. Pleasantly, I reclined back onto the concrete, my head falling into the grass lawn of this strangers house. I heard Matt chuckle, "Comfortable?"

"Actually, yes, I am."

"Hmm…some how I find that hard to believe."

"Try it for yourself."

He did just that. Laying beside me, I heard him sigh contently. "Not bad."

"See?" I smiled. Despite how badly I wanted to discuss his treatment, his illness, and his family's concern for him, I couldn't convince myself to bring it up. I bet it was difficult to know that your entire family had to be uprooted because of you. Somehow I couldn't picture how speaking of it would help his mood in any way, shape, or form. We were still silent, the only sound were cars passing by and the still barking dog.

Eventually, moments later, Matt spoke, "Was there anything in particular you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Not really," I faked a lie.

"Oh, okay."

Silence fell once more.

"You're a bad liar, you know."

"What? No I'm not. I'm actually a fairly good liar. I used to trick my mom all the time when I was in junior high. I only went about a third of the year in seventh grade. I used to chew up crackers and spit them into the toilet, faking sick," I mumbled, slightly rambling. I only then realized that divulging the fact that I use to manufacture throw-up might not be the smartest things to tell a kid who gets sick on a nightly basis because of his cancer. Wincing, I glanced at him, "Sorry."

Surprisingly, he was smiling. This instilled a bit of confidence in me. "Okay Matt…uh…have you ever played the twisted version of twenty questions?"

"Nope."

"Want to?"

"How do you?"

"How do I do?"

Matt chuckled and rolled his eyes; "How do you play, Nic?"

"You play by asking each other twenty questions about themselves, not about an object."

"So basically twenty questions of truth or dare, while lacking the dare?"

I deadpanned the boy, "Yes, if you want to put it in the simplest forms. Want to start?" When he didn't respond, I assumed that was a rejection. "Fine, I'll start. Matt…if you could travel anywhere in the world, where would you go?"

He hesitated for a moment. Lifting his faze from me, he looked to the sky. Matt opened his lips, then shut them. "Germany. My grandfather on my mom's side used to live there. When I was little he would tell me and Wendy stories about growing up there. We were suppose to visit him before he died."

"Oh…I'm sorry…" I wanted to ask how he died, but assumed it was old age. "Germany sounds lovely. I've heard they have good sausage."

"Ha, yes, they have good sausage."

"Well…what about you? Where would you go? Wait, can I ask you the same question?" Matt peered over at me. Hastily, he shook his head, "Nah. I'll ask a new one…um…okay. What did you see in that jerk from the party?"

"Who?"

"The guy at the party. The one me and Wen went to."

Oh. Tucker. Ew. My eyebrows furrowed. I pondered why he would ask me that as I searched for an answer. I couldn't really justify why I'd gone out with him without sounding shallow or superficial, which is not how I wanted to be perceived by Matt. I bit my lip. "I'm sorry if that's too person-"

"It's fine. I just…I honestly can't remember. We dated for so long and most of the time I wanted to break up with him. He was arrogant and pushy…I never did because I wasn't interested in anyone else and we had fun with, er, the physical stuff so I figured I'd stay with him for that reason. The thing with your brother was the last straw though."

"What thing?"

"Hmmm?"

"'The thing with my brother'?"

"Oh, yeah. How did you not know about that?" I bit my lip softly.

"What happened?" Matt sat up, concern and curiosity expanded his features. He peered down at me, blocking the sun. I could still see little rays, fanning out behind him. The golden glow over his hair seemed to cause a halo like effect. "Nicolette?"

"Oh, sorry. Uh, I think Billy should tell you-"

"Nic-"

"Ok, well…Tucker…sort of…clipped him."

"Clipped him?"

"One strong haymaker to the jaw. I swear I didn't know until after it happened. And as soon as I found out, I broke up with Tuck." Matt didn't look at me. He turned away, staring at the road. My conscious smacked me in the face. I was a jerk. Sitting up, I shifted beside him. "Matt I swear, I didn't-"

"Why didn't he tell me?"

His question shocked me. "I-I don't know…"

"Me either. I mean, I have a few ideas but…I just, I thought we were closer than that. Maybe he didn't think that I could handle it," his voice cracked slightly. I imagine it was more from anger than puberty. Matt studied the road, his eyes intently looking at the sewer drain in the middle of the lanes. Brow furrowed, eyes stormy, he wouldn't move.

"Matt…"

Still, he did not speak. I chewed on my lip. Hesitantly, I scooted closer. "Matt."

"Sorry," he glanced at me. "We should keep walking."

With that, he stood and began the trek back toward his house. I didn't move but watched his retreating figure. Grumbling to myself, I pulled my figure off the sidewalk, waved goodbye to the house containing the barking dog and followed after him. Despite his tired and weakness, he managed to get a good two blocks before I moved from the cement. I was forced to jog after him, catching up quickly. "Matt, I don't know why he didn't tell you. Billy was probably just embarrassed."

"He shouldn't be embarrassed by me."

"Would you tell him if you got your nose kicked in?"

"No, but he's my little brother-"

"So? You're his big brother. I wouldn't tell my older sibling. It would just give them more reason to tease me more than I'm sure they already would."

"It's not like that with us though; not since…" he trailed off with a sigh. Matt glanced at me, "Sorry. I, uh, I guess I haven't known you long enough to do the rant thing?"

"I'm not sure. Possibly…" we grinned at each other. We lapsed into a calming, comfortable silence the rest of the way home. When we reached his house he invited me inside for lunch. I kindly declined, telling him I needed to check on my grandmother and make sure she hadn't left me to go join Circus De Soleil. I offered to stop by later if my presence would not be annoying. Matt accepted; "Billy will be pleased."

"Go easy on him about the Tucker issue, okay?"

Matt nodded. And then, much to my surprise, he kissed my temple and receded into his home. I stood, paralyzed, on the front steps. Moments later, I snapped myself back into reality before crossing the street and entering my summer home the feeling of his lips linger on my skin.


	7. Chapter 7

**Tonight it's just me and my niece, Ella, she's two. I made spaghetti, she got it EVERYWHERE. All over the table, the chair, the carpet, her hair (luckily, I had sense enough to take off her clothes). So naturally, I was like, okay, bath-time. She proceeded to splash my entire bathroom with soap water; it was purple because I put one of those water-color tablets in there. After I cleaned the kitchen and my bathroom, she decides she wants to watch Nemo. So now here I sit watching a fish film with her. It's quite entertaining. She loves the turtles. Oh, and at the beginning when Nemo's mom and siblings die, she was like, "Uh-oh, Nemo!" I thought that was cute…**

**Okay, well, the entire point in me telling you all this is because while she is sitting here staring at the tv and giggling at Dori's every move, I decided to type up an update. I like bits of this one, but at a few points I kept screaming, "Crap, what now?" But, it's a great set-up for the next chapter.** **Let me know how you like it.**

**-*-**

"Tell me about the blonde one," my grandmother's random outburst at dinner caused me to drop my fork. It clanged against the china plate but she didn't seem to notice as she continued to nibble on a piece of chicken.

"Oh, well, um," her question sent my thoughts to Billy. "Like I said, we go-er, went to school together last year. He seems like a pretty sweet boy so far-"

"No, not the pip-squeak, the big one. The cute one," Nana correct me. Scooping up a bite of rice, I popped it into my mouth, stifling a laugh, "Did you just call Billy a 'pip-squeak'?"

"Yes."

"Nice, Nana. That's very pleasant of you. I swear, you're like, Grandma's Gone Bad." The older woman ignored my very keen observation and continued chowing down on her second helping of chicken and rice a'La Nicolette. She waited on me to answer her impatiently. Smiling at her expectant facial expression, I took a sip of Coke and shrugged, "I don't know much about Matt. Today was really the only time we've ever spent alone. I mean, I've met him before but only briefly when I dropped Billy off from school."

"He has cancer," I added a moment later, pushing a bit of corn around on my plate. "I think he was diagnosed three years ago…"

"What kind?"

"I'm not sure. I know he went through chemo for a while…"

"Like Chassity?"

"What?" I raised my eyebrow. Chassity is my mother's cousin, Nana's niece, and my second cousin. "Chas has cancer?"

Nana shook her head, "No. It was for her Rumatoid Arthritis. When she was thirteen-"

"You can get Arthritis at thirteen?"

"Sure can. It was hereditary. Jim had it," Jim was Chassity's father. "It got so bad that the doctors predicted she'd stop walking within a year. It got so bad because her white blood cell count was extremely low and couldn't fight off the arthritis. The chemo helped with that. It was expensive though…between that and the pain medicine…Chasity nearly spent ever penny my sister had. I bet it's hard on their family with all those children."

Solemnly, I nodded in agreement. I slowly took another bit of corn and rice. As I chewed, I mulled over Nana's words. That silence didn't last long as she continued to speak, "Anyway, what else do you know about him?"

"Not much…" trying to think of things I knew about him, I remember Bradley's party the night of graduation. Tuckers angry, arrogant face smirked in my mind. Grimacing, I thought to Matt and I hanging out in the kitchen, drifting to the living room, dancing to the pounding stereo, etc. "He…likes sausage pizza? Before he caught sick he was on the track team-"

"Running?"

"Yes ma'am. Long distance racing, I believe. Why do you want to know?" the question came out harsher than intended. In fact, I hadn't intended it harshly at all. I was simply curious as to why my grandmother was taking such an unhealthy interest in the neighbor's child. Nana…a secret pedophile…hmmm…it's possible.

"Oh well forgive me for wanting to know something about the neighbors," she feigned hurt feelings. Rolling my eyes, I couldn't help but grin at her. Another three bites of chicken and my plate was clean of all food. Wiping my mouth with a spare napkin, I peered at her. It was my turn to stare expectantly.

Wiggling in her seat, my grandmother folded her hands on the table, "Alright, well I couldn't help but notice…"

"Notice what?"

"You two looked rather cozy the other evening at their house and you went on a walk together. I put two and two together…and, well it's not that hard to figure out." My jaw had now dropped. Nana was prying into my love life? What? Now see, this is just a whole new awkward for our family.

"I'm just going to ignore that last statement from you and continue with my assumption that you're a newly formed pedophile after the neighbor's cancer ridden son."

"Good plan. Go after the kid who's sick so after you rape, him he dies and can't rat you out to the police," Nana nodded in agreement.

"Nana! That's terrible! God, you are so going to hell."

"God's going to hell?" she shook her head, jokingly. "That can't be good."

"Have you no shame?"

"Nope," she grinned. It amazes me that elderly people are suppose to be wise and caring, two things which describe Nana's polar opposite. My grandmother was bizarre and passionately insane. Sadly, those are the reasons I love her.

We cleaned the kitchen immediately following dinner-okay she cleaned and I sat at the bar talking to her. We decided it would be best if I got a job over the summer to go ahead and start adding to my trust fund for next year. Though I was going to school on a scholarship and I had my trust fund from my parents, I would still need a bit of extra cash. Together, my grandmother and I sat down and tried to figure out what jobs I would at least be half decent at.

Goatswood wasn't a big town. It was actually a suburb of greater Hartford. Sure, there was a large, advanced hospital, and a few shopping centers but mostly it was little homey shops, specialty stores, and diners. I could waitress…but that's so typical. Every teenager who needs a quick way to earn cash tries to grab a job as a waiter or waitress so I doubt there would be many spots for hire.

Nana suggested I could get a job at a pet shop down on Waverly. I quickly shoved away that idea for my persistently annoying cat allergies. Get me within ten miles of one of those little fur balls and I sneeze up a storm. My face get's a blotchy, my eyes water-it's horrible. We also ruled out a job at the grocery store, Anthony's Pizza Parlor, a discount store, Fast Gas gas station, a few of the dress shops, and the community pool.

"I'm out of ideas," I muttered, turning the last page in the phone book. "How about you?"

"I'm at a loss. I suppose tomorrow you should actually go in town and look around."

"I could…I guess I should," chewing softly on my lip, I drummed my fingers on the table. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. "I'll get it."

I stood, maneuvered around the chairs and lightly ran down the front hallway. I know what you're thinking, running? That's a bit extreme. I always do that. If someone's at the door or someone's calling on the phone, I have to get there instantly. It's some sort of underlying fear of rejection. Like, maybe they'll leave if I don't answer in time. Then they'll get upset and hate me forever. So yeah, I have to get there immediately. I know, psychotic right?

"Hello?" I asked as I pulled the door open.

"Hello Nicole," Mrs. Perkins beamed at me. I stepped aside and let her enter, "Mrs. P, didn't I tell you it's Nic or Nicolette, Nicole is not my name."

"Neither is Nic."

"Nic is a nickname, it's shorten."

"Nicole is shortened from Nicolette as well-"

"Leave it, Genevieve, she's stubborn as a mule," Nana called us to the kitchen. Genevieve Perkins gave a haughty laugh, "I wonder where she get's it from."

"I don't," I scoffed. "I know exactly where I get it from."

Mrs. Perkins stayed for hours, as usual. However, this time another friend of Nana's stopped by. Ms. Hamilton, the town cougar. Now there's a pedophile for you. Upon Ms. Hamilton's arrival, the kitchen got crowded. I managed to send a wave grandma's way and slip out. Jogging up stairs, I decided not to wait until tomorrow. It was only three o'three, the way still young so why not head into town and look for a job.

Sliding into a pair of washed up converse, I ran a brush through my hair and applied a ridiculously thin coat of lip gloss. The mirror reflected my appearance and after giving myself a once over, I shrugged carelessly. The spot on my dresser where my wallet last sat was now empty. This caused a potential problem in my leaving. No wallet, no identification. No identification, no driving. "Damnit," I moaned. My eyes traveled the length of my room. I was waiting for it to pop out and scream, "Here I am!" But no.

My wallet had disappeared off the face of the planet. It wasn't in the bathroom, the living room, the dining room, any of the hall ways, the den, the office, no where. It was gone! Finally, I walked back into the kitchen praying it was hiding under the coffee pot. Mrs. Perkins, Nana, and Captain Cougar herself were huddled around the bar cackling as they chewed tiny pastries and sipped what I assumed was some form of liquor. "Nana, do you have any idea where my wallet it?"

"Hmm?" her head snapped over in my direction.

"My wallet?"

"Oh yes, it's in the laundry room, it was in your pants."

"Oh thank god. Thank you," I shot her a smile then hurried into the laundry room. Sure enough there sat my thick, black wallet atop the washing machine right next to a stack of neatly folded towels. Snatching it up, I grumbled under my breath, waved goodbye to the slightly intoxicated senior citizens, and trekked out the front door. My temperature was still elevated from the frustration so when someone called my name, my instinctive reaction was to whine, "What?!"

My eyes scanned the street. They landed on Wendy, Matt and Billy's cousin. Shock was written all over her face. Almost instantly, I felt bad. "Hey, uh, sorry…Wendy right?"

"Yeah, are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine, I'm sorry, just…frustrated."

"Oh, um, okay…." she gave a small smile. Sighing, I tucked my hands in my pockets, "Yeah…sorry. Ha. Well uh, taking out the trash?"

"Unfortunately," Wendy grumbled just as she dropped the white bag down by the cans on the street. We were about ten feet away now as I stood by my car and she stood by their mailbox. "What about you?"

"About to head into town. Gonna try and find a job."

"I need to get a job but aunt Sara expects me to stay home and watch Billy and Mary," Wendy spoke as she drifted across the street. "What are you applying for?"

"I have no idea. I figured I'd just head into town and look around. See who's hiring. Um, you could come if you'd like?" I spoke hesitantly. I didn't want her to feel obligated to go just because I offered so I quickly added, "If Peter and Sara don't mind." At least she could form an excuse off of that.

"Oh, um…I don't know," Wendy smiled quickly. "Let me go ask?"

"Yeah, sure, take your time." Wendy ran down the drive-way, up the front steps of their porch, and into the house. Sighing, I leaned against the driver's door of my car and ran a hand through my hair. The air outside was brisk and cool despite the sun being high in the sky. That's what you get for living in New England I guess. As I attempted to wait patiently, I watch the trees swaying in the wind. Crisp leaves broke off and fluttered on the grounds. Weeds were sticking out of the cracked side walks. The neighbors to our left seriously needed to mow their lawn. The grass was almost five inches tall. And they needed a new roof. Chips of woo-

"Hey," Wendy's voice once again broke my train of thought. "Sorry it took so long. Does the offer still stand?"

"Of course," I chuckled a laugh. Her hair was wiping in her face, she was out of breath, and her jacket was hanging half off her shoulder, half at her side. "You look awesome."

"Shut up," she suppressed a laugh as she got herself together. I watched with amusement and when she was finally done, I raised an eyebrow, "Well are you coming?"

"Oh, right, yeah," she blushed. And with that, we both climbed into my car and headed off into the heart of Goatswood Connecticut in search of jobs.


	8. Chapter 8

**Many, many, many thanks to: **Raine44354, Fairy Skull, dudeFML, mistressofdarkness666, January Baby, **and** lostnbooks**. Your reviews help me so much. They inspire me to write more and for that, everyone else should thank you as well because it makes me update quicker. **

**IMPORTANT: I'm only really now starting to fully develop a plot. I've watched the movie over and over trying to figure out how exactly I'm going to worm Nicolette into the world of our favorite haunting. To those who have asked, yes, the story will contain the haunting. It will be every bit as supernatural as my first story. Only, the twist and how exactly Nic effects things is much more complex. All of that is coming up very soon, so bare with me, please! **

**On a side note: I love how you guys keep commenting about her grandmother. :] I love her too. She is actually a very realistic person. She's based on a woman who babysat me when I was an infant. She's still a family friend and I visit her often. I'll be sure to tell her she has a fan base. :D **

**P.S. for those of you who read We Will Get Through This, see if you can find a connection between this chapter and chapter three of WWGTT. :] Winner gets a prize…maybe…most likely not… **

**Now onto the story…**

**-*-**

"Agh, another failure," I moaned as we dropped down into seats. Wendy peered at me over her cappuccino. So far we had made it to every single, solitary store, shop, diner, fast food joint, stand, parlor, etc. And so far no where was hiring. It was ridiculous. Absolutely and utterly ridiculous.

"Perseverance is key," Wendy added weakly. I offered a small smile. Lifting the plastic cup, I slowly took a sip of my macchiato, the heated coffee burned my lips and tongue. My tongue flicked out getting the bit of foam left on my lip. I shot Wendy a grin. "Want to look at some of the books?"

"Sure, why not?" she smiled. To be honest, I never realized how pretty Wendy is. Don't get me wrong, she's not my type, but she's honestly pretty in a sort of exotic way. I mirrored her grin as we embarked down the long isles of books. After our two-hour long trip around town, we decided to quit job-hunting and stop by Starbucks. The only Starbucks in down was forty miles in the other direction so we stopped at the local Barnes and Noble instead.

"Oh, the Gift Giver," Wendy sang. The paperback book she held in her hand displayed an elderly man on the cover. The title was scripted in silver. "We read this is eighth grade. I loved it."

"Never heard of it," I mumbled. Her wide eyes flew to my face, "You need to read it."

"Ha, I'm good, thanks," I smiled. A large Victorian stand in the middle of the isle held old literature. Well-known, respected authors like William Shakespeare, Jane Austen, Emily Dickenson, Charlotte Bronte, Dante, Mark Twain, etc. The great world classics. Instinctively, my fingers grazed the cover of Jane Eyre. It was my mother's favorite novel growing up. When I turned thirteen she gave me her tattered and worn hardcover. I've read it over twelve times.

"Of Mice and Men."

Slightly startled by Wendy's sudden close proximity, I gaped, "Huh?"

"John Steinbeck. I love this story. Ah, and Pride and Prejudice too," her entire face lit up as she scanned the large rack of books. "This store is amazing."

"You like to read?" I scoffed jokingly.

"Yes."

"Me too."

"Favorite novel?"

"Tough one," I murmured, already mulling the question over in my mind. My first choice was to say A River Runs Through It by Norman Maclean. That was the first real book I'd ever read. I remember it perfectly; the description of religion was one I'd never thought of before. It shook me for a while. But then again, the Outsiders by S.E. Hinton was also a classic in my mind. Though it wasn't extremely lengthy, it was still a wonderfully told story. And it was true. I can read it a thousand times plus. In fact, I read it six times in one week. Then again, I was addicted to Shakespeare. Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet, Macbeth, a Midsummer Night's Dream, etc. All impeccably brilliant works. Finally, I brought my cup to my lips once more and drank, before answering, "Hmmm, I'm going to have to go with the Outsiders."

"I've heard of it. What's it about?"

"It's a group of boys who grew up in a rough neighborhood set in the fifties. The story tells about the constant conflicts between them and the rich kids of the town. Sounds lame but it's marvelous." Then I added, "What about you? Got a die-hard fave?"

"Oh, definitely. Macbeth, Shakespeare. _Is that a dagger I see before me?" _she beamed. We busted into rounds of laughter. Continuing through the store we picked up various books and calendars and journals and games, etc. We even stopped in the music section and listened to a few Beatles albums. Half-way through the chorus of 'Come Together', the woman working the counter asked us to stop singing and please move along.

"Ha, ha, we are so sorry," I giggled tucking a fallen strand of hair behind me ear. "I didn't realize we were singing that loud."

"It's fine," the teen girl responded, her nose ring glittering brightly. "My manger just didn't want you to disturb the other customers."

"That's her way of politely saying we're horrible," Wendy snickered. We began to walk out of the music section when Wendy suddenly halt. "Oh, um, can I pay for this here?"

"Pay for what?" I mumbled. Glancing down, my eyes landed on a thick, hard-back book she had in her clutch. It was bound in an ivory green with white script. The Poetry of Robert Frost: The Collected Poems, Complete and Unabridged. Immediately I smiled. Robert Frost was a poet I was very familiar with. In fact, one of his poems is written in the Outsiders. Irony. Love it. "I didn't know you'd gotten that."

Wendy simply nodded as the cashier guided us over to the counter. She took Wendy's book and ran it over the scanner. Her fingers flew swiftly across the key board in a few simple strokes before she smiled up at us, her auburn hair clouding her face. "Your total is twenty-one, o'six. Will that be cash or credit?"

"Cash," Wendy replied. Digging into her back pocket, she withdrew a crumbled ten, a five, and a few one dollar bills. Placing the money in the woman's palm, she waited. The cashier counted the money and opened the cash box. Suddenly, she stopped. As she looked at Wendy, I finished off my coffee and walked over to the trash bin.

"I feel horrible, but do you have six cents, Nic?" Wendy asked, anxiety etched on her face.

"You should feel horrible! How dare you ask me for chump change. This is an outrage. You are no longer allowed to speak to me," I glared at her. Wendy froze. The cashier looked amused. I waited for Wendy to catch on but instead she kept glancing between me and the girl behind the computer. "Wen…I was joking."

Walking over there, I dropped a nickel and a penny by the register. Just as the coins clanged against the counter top, a green sign caught my eye. NOW HIRING. Karma. It has to be karma. "Are you kidding me? You guys are hiring?"

"Sure are," the girl replied as she pulled out Wendy's receipt. Twenty minutes later, Wendy and I were exiting the Barnes and Noble wearing matching grins. She clutched her poem book, and I clutched my name tag. I'd just applied and gotten a job as a Barnes and Noble employee. I would start the following day. Karen, the young girl working in the music department, would let me shadow her for a day and learn the ropes. Then, I would work on my own in the teen and children's sections.

"Think maybe you can score some free coffee now?" Wendy joked as we got into my little silver Honda. The drive back home was a short one. I pulled the car off the shoulder and parking by the curb in front of Nana's house. As Wendy slipped from the car she smiled, "Thanks for letting me tag-along."

"Not a problem," I grinned. "Just be more open to my ridicule and pranks next time."

"That wasn't funny. I just knew I was going to have to beg the cashier for money."

"Six cents, Wen, six." Together we chuckled and joined by the mail box. "Anyway, feel free to tag-along whenever you'd like; it was fun."

"Ditto," she smiled. "Alright, well I better get going."

"See ya."

"Bye." Checking both ways, she slowly crossed the street and started down her drive way. I offered a last wave, then I too turned toward the house. The patch of grass where Mrs. Perkin's truck had been was now vacant. Much to my dismay, however, Ms. Hamilton's Cadillac glared at me, still located in the same spot it was three hours ago. "Crap…"

Instantly, I racked my brain trying to find a way to avoid Captain Cougar when and idea shot out at me. I spun on my heels and shouted, "Hey, Wendy! On second thought, do you want to come over? I've seen your place but you've never seen mine." For a moment I felt guilty. Technically I was using Wendy. Those feelings were fleeting, however, when she rejected my offer.

"I'm sorry. I can't. I promised Sara that I'd watch Mary and Billy when we got back so we could go to the store," she apologies.

"Oh," my voice dropped; I was moaning on the inside. "That's fine. Maybe later."

"Well, um, you could have dinner with us. Sara and Peter won't mind and I know Billy would love it. I think we're having burgers. Peter's a master with the grill. It'll be worth it," Wendy grinned. Nodding, I smiled, "Sounds perfect."

I jogged over the small road splitting our house. Slowing to a stop at her side, I asked, "You're sure they won't mind?"

"Well…actually they might. In fact you probably shouldn't. I mean, Sara thinks you've been hanging around Billy too much…" she mumbled. I felt my eyebrows draw, "What? H-how…? I mean, I get how but what's wrong with that? Billy's a cool kid."

"She thinks you're too old for him."

"Oh my-what?! I'm not trying to date him-!"

Wendy's sullen features suddenly cracked. Her mask of trickery was shattered as she double over laughing. I stood for a moment, paralyzed with confusion. Her loud, girlish giggles filled the air. The trees seemed to bounce her laughter away, causing an echo effect. By now, I was glaring at her, my narrow irises not seeming very friendly. When Wendy finally finished her cackling fit, she straightened up. "Ha…I…I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. Today at the book store. It was marvelous, my inspiration!"

"You suck. I have no proper response for this kind of thing," I muttered, running my hands through my hair. Despite my works, a small laugh escaped my lips.

"Then I suggest you learn to take shit as well as you can dish it," Wendy smirked. Grinning back, together we walked up the front steps and entered the house. Wendy called out alerting her family of her return home. Also, she added my new presence. Nearly instantly we were met with a high squeal as her little sister came barreling down the stairs. She ran and attached herself to Wendy.

"Hi Wen."

"Hey Mar."

At that same moment, both Matt and Billy appeared. Billy at the top of the stairs with a very dork grin on his face. Matt from the kitchen with a very shocked look on his face. Hesitantly, I rose my hand and waved at them both. "Hey boys. Wendy invited me for dinner. Is that okay?"

"Of course, dear, that's completely fine," Mrs. Campbell slipped by Matt. She glided over to me and placed a hand on my shoulder. "You are always welcome here."

Sara quickly left post our arrival. For a while, we all lounged in the living room, with the exception of Mary who had bolted upstairs the second Sara had left. Wendy excused her little sister, giving the excuse that she is often in her room playing with her dollies. "It's not a problem," I nodded. "I used to do that too."

"Aw, did you like playing with your dolls? Barbie? You played with Barbie, right?" Billy snorted beside me on their plush couch. Shooting him a sour pout, I joked, "If by playing you mean decapitating."

Once the sun set and darkness fell, Peter came hurtling through the front door. His sudden appearance seemed to instantly lighten the mood within the house. Matt, particularly, softly relaxed when his father came home. Ironically, Sara pulled into the drive mere moments later. Billy, Wen, and I helped her charter grocery bag after grocery bag into the kitchen. Mr. Campbell got the grill ready, Matt stepped outside with him. When the trunk was finally empty, Wendy ditched-she dashed up the stair case to "get a quick shower before diner."

Lamely, I offered to aid Sara in cooking. She quickly refused, "You are a guest, relax. Dinner will be ready soon."

"Yes ma'am," I muttered. She shot me a pursed-lipped look. I grinned, "Sorry."

Billy had mysteriously disappeared, Mary and Wendy were on the second floor, and Matt and Peter were outside. I quickly weighed my options: number one-search and most likely NOT find Billy; number two-venture upstairs and invade their personal space, then try to convince Mary to let me play with her; number three-go outside and socialize with Mr. Campbell and his eldest son. That's right, I'm gonna go with option number three!

Slipping down the small hall, I gripped the handle to the back door and turned. Billy, surprisingly, was standing by his father, watching him flip burgers on the grill. Matt was placed on the porch, his feet resting on the steps bellow him. His head was tilted to the sky. I suppose he was star gazing. Suddenly, Mr. Campbell's eyes were on me, "Well hello there. Come to join the party?"

"Oh the real party's inside, Mr. Campbell. Your wife is whipping up some pretty mean mash potatoes," I grinned. Matt and Billy both turned to look at me. Matt seemed uncomfortable; perhaps my sudden closeness to him bother him. Billy just looked happy.

The youngest Campbell son snorted, "No way; mom always burns the potatoes. Always."

"Always?" I laughed.

Peter shrugged, "More so not, but yes. Ha. Sorry kiddo. But the burgers…now they will be truly marvelous."

"Oh I'm sure," I grinned.

"Speaking of," Mr. Campbell nudged his son. "They're ready."

As if on cue, Billy turned and sprinted pass me, up the steps, and into the house. Seconds later he reappeared with a large plate. Once the hamburgers were piled high upon the plate, Peter and Billy retreated into the house. Silence rang throughout their backyard as I stood behind Matt on the porch. The stars above gleamed brightly and, somehow they gave me the little push needed to step forward and sit myself beside him. "They're beautiful."

"Yeah," Matt spoke softly. I noticed his eyes flicker briefly to my face. The silence reinstated once more. A light breeze drifted over us; we both shivered. Smiling at each other, we sat, both gazing up ahead.

"Did you talk to Billy?"

"No; chickened out."

I gave a small shrug, "That's okay."

Matt cracked another heart-breaking grin. Under the blanket of stars, we sat together, our shoulders touching, our arms and legs touching, our breaths in sync. And some force, something inside me compelled me to say this to him, and I don't know what it was. Gently, I faced him. "Hey Matt…?"

"Hmm?" he pivoted. Our faces we close, not close enough to brush or even to feel his gentle breaths, but close. Sighing, I bit my lip, "You'll be okay…I know it."

"You think so?" the eldest Campbell whispered, his voice calloused and weak. Again, I nodded, reaching out and taking his hand. "I do."

"Then I guess I will," and ever-so-slightly, he craned his head forward and brushed my cheek with his lips before helping me to my feet and escorting me inside. As my heart leap rapidly and my stomach fluttered, I ate lunch with a family I was rapidly becoming close with; a family that in spite of how long I'd known them, I was weaving my way into. Little did I know, this was only the beginning. And ahead of us was nothing short of a summertime full of suspense.


	9. Chapter 9

**65 reviews. 3,426 hits. 1,007 visitors. I can honestly say that you all are wonderful. Every single one of you. And I want to hug you guys. Thank you so much. **

**Not much to say today. It's kinda short, but sets up events for future chapters. Plus, I figured a short chapter is better than no chapter. Now, on with the story. Enjoy, my friends. **

**-*-**

I dipped the paintbrush into the red paint. Careful of splatters, I raised the brush to the canvas. Gently, I cast red streaks to the sky giving the sunset painting a fiery effect. I cleaned off the brush, the added orange, yellow, and peach as well. Fading them in with the red, I completed the sunset landscape. I laid the brush on the easel and stood back. I grimaced. The picture was amateur; mediocre at best.

Heaving a sigh, I gave a frustrated sort of growl. My body became a dead weight, plopping down onto my bed. Instantly, the dozens of fluffy, plush pillows cascaded down upon me, smothering me. Angrily, I shoved them off me; they tumbled onto the floor. I glared at the ceiling. My artistic ability was faltering. Big time. And I had no clue why. My fingers began to drum themselves on the comforter. Slowly, I gathered a rhythm. My feet began tapping in sync. Then, m head began to bob along. Soon, I was standing on my bed, dancing to the made-up beat.

Jumping dow, I turned on my cassette player. Blue Oyster Cult's new tape was in. 'Don't Fear the Reaper' came blaring through the speakers. Music filled my room and I couldn't help but dance along. As my body swayed and shook, I took the sunset canvas down, grabbed a new one from behind the easel, and started over. An hour and twenty-three minutes later, I was almost finished with a Thomas Kinkade winter scene when a knock came on my door. "Come in!"

"Hey, you're grandmother let me in," Matt Campbell appeared in the doorway. Cheeks blushing, I smiled a bit, "Hey…there…you…"

"Bad timing?" he chuckled.

"No, just surprised," I ran a hand through my hair, glancing down. With a jump, I realized I was still in my pajamas. "Oh, crap. I, uh, need to put on day-time clothes…wait in the hall for a second?"

"Those are your pajamas?" he grinned. Shrugging, I shoved him out the door. I threw open my closet and took in my appearance on the door-length mirror. My hair wasn't horrible pulled back into a ponytail, my tank top had ridden up and was idling about an inch above my belly button, and the cotton shorts displayed enough, not leaving much to the imagination. Groaning, I pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt from Brown; my mother had bought it when we toured the campus first semester of my senior year.

"Okay, now come in."

Slowly, the door reopened. Matt had a hand clamped over his eyes. Smiling, he joked "May I look?"

"Yes you may." Matt dropped his hand and entered. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Boredom," he mumbled waltzing over to the easel. His eyes traveled all over the canvas before flanking to the floor. Lightly, he picked up the sunset painting. My stomach churned. Though the Thomas Kinkade duplicate was much better than my original, it was still no Picasso. I chewed my lip until it was starting to numb, the anticipation slowly killing me. Matt carefully placed the painting down and gazed at me, "Did you paint these?"

I nodded. "They're good; really good."

"They're weak," I argued. "The brush strokes are too different: half are thick, half are thin, the fading is miserable…the tones…ah. Pitiful."

Matt snorted, "Take the compliment. I like them."

"I'll try," I murmured. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," the pale boy smirked. "Anyway, I came over here with a purpose."

"I thought it was boredom? Either way, I'm flattered. Nothing better to do, oh! Go see the neighbor girl. It's charming, really," I slid onto the bed, drawing my knees up. Mocking my actions, Matt took a seat at the end of the mattress. Grinning he replied, "That's not what I meant. You're much more than neighbor girl-"

"Oh?"

"You're also book store girl," he cracked another smile. "Wendy told me and Billy about your new job. Congrats."

"Ah, I see my status is growing."

"Impeccably," Matt nodding. "Nice room, by the way. The pillows are…"

"Not my décor. My grandmother picks the furniture, I just get to add my things."

"I see…" We fell into a silence; I wasn't sure if it was comfortable or not. I was comfortable with him, but nervous. Anxious. Apprehensive. Shy. Matt, however, didn't look quite the same. Though he seemed anxious, apprehensive even, he didn't seem shy, just timid and angsty. "What's up? What was that purpose you mentioned?"

"Did you know the people who owned the house before us?" Matt's eyes shifted to my frame.

"Well that depends on what you mean. Did I know the Neeleys, the last people to live in your house, or the original homeowners. I'm thinking you mean the original…you found out, huh?"

"The room in the basement."

"Oh God, is it still there?" I sat up straighter, horror flooding my body. "I figured they would have taken it out."

"Nope. It's all there. The embalming station, the cremator, the tools, the medicine…all of it's down there."

"Matt…isn't your room in the basement?" We locked eyes, and the cancer boy nodded. "Oh wow…"

"Tell me about it," the sarcastic remark was followed by a sigh. Matt slowly reclined, flattening out on my bed. Though I am not normally the typical horny teenager, a series of not-so-appropriate images and ideas came rushing at me in that single moment. Shifting around, I tried to literally shake them from my mind. My lips parted and I was prepared to launch into a lengthy story about the former inhabitants of his house, when a loud bang came from downstairs.

"Son of a bitch!" the sound of my grandmother screaming an obscenity was not one often heard. Once more, Matt Campbell and I met one another's eyes. "She doesn't usually swear, I promise. Excuse me for one moment."

I slipped out the door and down stairs quickly. Despite my embarrassment due to Nana's outburst, I was slightly worried and relieved. Relieved because I could take a break from Matt's domineering presence and calm down the hormones. Worried because a) my grandmother was flipping her shit, so something remotely horrid must have happened, and b) I just left a teenage guy alone…in my bedroom. Gliding through the kitchen door way, I saw Nana sitting at the counter, her head in her hands.

"What happened?"

The older woman's head shot up. "Oh dear God, Nicolette. I'm going to kill you aunt Hilary." Aunt Hilary was my grandmother's niece through marriage, my grandpa's niece. She was the black sheep of their family. The only one never to go to college, the only one to get married straight out of high school, and the only one to break the family record for number of kids: she had six. Hilary was known to be…well, for lack of better term, stupid. She wasn't the brightest bulb in the box and often made a fool of herself. Not very many people in our family got along well with her. Just hearing her name sent my body to shivers.

"What'd she do now?"

"Victoria has decided to go to camp for the summer," Nana explained. Victoria was Hilary's second oldest. Henry, her first born, was currently away at college. "So now she has no where for those little brats to stay while she's at work-"

"And?" I squeaked, though I feared I already knew the answer. Groaning, she confirmed my worst nightmare, "She's bringing Nathanial and Mallory down for the week until she can find a daytime baby sitter."

"What?!" Call me loud, call me immature, but call me over dramatic and you're wrong. Yes, I should probably welcome my cousins with open arms; yes, I should probably calm down and assess the situation later; but no, I am not being over dramatic. Hilary may be bad, but her youngest four are like mini-Satans. Only when you kill those demons, you look bad cause they're in child form. Imagine, if you will, Damien from the omen. Now times that by four. Bingo! "Well who's keeping Jared and Emma?"

"Her neighbor."

"Why can't her neighbor keep the other two then?"

"Too much of a responsibility," Nana scoffed. "Hell, I don't blame the woman. I wouldn't volunteer to keep one let alone two, and I damn sure wouldn't keep all four."

"Son of a bitch," I growled lowly. Apparently, not low enough. Instead of chiding me, she did the thing most typical of her, "Damn straight. So how are we going to do it?"

"Do what? Handle them? Hell if I know!" normally I would keep the cursing to a minimum around her but at the moment, I didn't seem to care.

"No. Kill them and hide the bodies. Oh, you know what? I think I still have Thomas's old shovel in the back shed. We could knock them unconscious and bury them under the garden. Mhmm, they'll be good for the corn stock this fall-"

"Nana," I breathed. "As funny as I'm sure that was in your head, we do have a guest over and I doubt he'll believe you were joking."

"Stick boy? He can't hear me. And I'm not jokin-"

"Nana, we aren't killing them! At least no permanently. Maybe we can spike their drinks with Nyquil, knock their little demon asses out for a little while…when are they coming?"

"Two days."

A frustrated groan rippled through my chest. "I hate this."

"Ditto, babe," and then, my Nana retrieved her Jack Daniels from the liquor cabinet and drank. I grinned at the old woman and left. Back upstairs, I found Matt peering at the painting on the wall above my bed. It was a copy of Dante Gabriel Rossetti's _Ecce Ancilla Domini (The Annunciation). _"My grandpa gave me that when I was fourteen."

Matt, obviously shocked, jumped and nearly bumped into me. "Easy there, tiger," I gripped his arms to keep from falling. In an attempt to save our balance, he too caught my arms and as we swayed, our bodies clashed together. My breath hitched, his cheeks flushed, and we stopped. Silence and immobile, we stood. My heart leap in my chest, pounding against my rib cage. I was sure he could hear, because it was the only noise in my ears, so I dropped his arms and slightly moved back. "Do you like it?"

"What?" his brow furrowed. I nodded my head, crashing down on my bed. "The painting?"

"Oh…uh-"

"Don't be afraid to say no. For the first month I had it, it only creeped me out. But then as I got into the history of the painting…I don't know…it grew on me. I love it now; it reminds me of him."

"Of who?" Matt asked softly as he laid down beside me.

"My grandfather."

"I'm sorry," Matt spoke, collecting the fact that he was no longer living. I shrugged. "It really is a beautiful painting. One of Rossetti's first. It's called the _Ecce Ancilla Domini (The Annunciation). _He painted it in eighteen-fifty. For sometime it hung in the Tate Gallery in London, which, in those days, was huge."

Matt smiled softly at that, "You like art."

"Very much," I mirrored his expression. Together, laying on my bed, it was hard to keep my thoughts on the painting. It was hard to keep my thoughts on anything but the fact that his body was less than a foot away from mine, with only thin sheets as our blockade.

_Three months, _I tried to reason with myself. _I'll be here three months and then off to college and I'll probably never see him again. Plus, the kid's got cancer, he's not going to have much opportunity to explore sexually before he goes. I should make out with him. We'll both enjoy it, hopefully, and no one will get hurt. He's single, I'm single, why not? _

It was in that moment, when I did something so incredibly simple as to kiss him, that I seeled our fate it seemed. I set things in motion when I propped up on my elbow and hovered over him, slowly leaning down. My hair was cascading over my shoulders, tickling my face and his as I lowered myself onto him. Our lips brushed. Hands began to move and snake and feel. Bodies became mingled. It was tongue against tongue, lips against lips. Then lips against skin, lips against tongue, skin against tongue. The lines between his body and mine were blurred by heat, by passion, by lust.

Foolishly, when I let my hormones rage and I kissed Matt Campbell I doomed us both. Because it was that first kiss that ensured every free moment I had that summer would be spent with him. By his side I would be, kissing, hugging, holding along the way. Because it was that first kiss that made it impossible for me to just 'leave it alone' when his cancer worsened and he started seeing things that weren't there. Because it was that first kiss that made me fall for Matt. Fall I did, and I fell hard.

But in that second, in my room, on my bed, with his hands roaming my body, his lips on my neck, his breath on my skin, it didn't matter. I didn't care. All I could think was 'more, I need more'. And more I got.


	10. Chapter 10

**This one is short but sweet. The next update's when the fun really starts. Also, for you crazed and neglected fans, Jonah will be making an appearance soon! :D I know, I'm excited too. I feel bad because he's been so non-existent so far. All in due time, though, all in due time.**

**Read, review, then read again! :] **

The little devil's arrived right on time the following week. Nana and I had swept the house putting away all precious family heirlooms, breakables, and valuable items. We thought we were good to go when they showed up. We were desperately wrong.

They were dropped off in such a hast the we barely managed to snatch up their bags before Victoria was pulling out of the driveway with swift goodbyes to her satanic children. I glared after her mini-van and gathered their things. They had already disappeared into the house, squealing as they did so. Nana followed them, muttering obscenities under her breath. Across the street, I saw Billy and Mary running around the yard. Billy caught my eye, waved, smiled, and beckoned me over. I apologetically raised the suitcases, nodding toward the house. He seemed to understand and I waved goodbye before back-tracking inside.

Nana was sitting at the bar with Mallory. Mallory was chatting away aimlessly. Our grandmother appeared to be listening; I knew better. "Mallory," I called. Instantly, she whirled around. Excitedly, she bounced and hopped down off her stool. "Yes?"

"Where's your brother? Go find him and we'll make you guys some lunch," I offered. She nodded, silently, and shot off down the hallway. I cringed watching her retreating figure. Nana and I locked eyes. "She makes me nervous."

"She makes me suicidal," Nana mumbled. AS she turned from me and began to gather ingredients to make homemade chili, I peered down the hall waiting for the two kids to materialize. When they didn't, I began to grow anxious. Just as I moved down the hall, Mallory's scream filled the air, "_Nana!" _

"Oh shit," I spat, making a mad dash toward the scream. When I found them both, they were in my room…covered in paint. My easel had been knocked to the floor, paint dripping onto the carpet. Splatters of reds, blues, yellows, and blacks covered my floor, pillows, walls, and bed; as well as my idiot cousins. Taking a shaky, deep breath, I whispered, "Oh…my…God…"

In unison, the siblings went wide-eyed. Mallory quickly tossed her hands up in defense, shouting, "Nate did it!"

"I'm going…to kill you!" I bit off. Jumping out at them, I missed by a sliver, allowing them room to pass. With an angry scream, I chased them. Their frightful squeals met my enraged shouts and soon, I cornered them in the entry way. "You two are so dead-"

"Nicolette!" Nana snapped behind me. "What di-" but she stopped short. Her eyes trailed over their painted figures. "Oh dear God. Do you two have a death wish?"

"Apparently," I snorted lunging forward. Just then, the front door swing open, Matt strolling inside. With joyous, mocking laughter, the demonic children escaped. I glared at the eldest Campbell, lurching to the door. I stared them down as they raced across the front lawn. They were already next door and didn't look like they were going to slow down. I turned my glare, once again, to Matt. He stood, glancing around, a confused expression on his tired face. Sighing bitterly, I announced to my grandmother, "They're going to die before midnight."

I ignored any response she might have given, dragging Matt to the back porch. We sat at the round, umbrella table under a slight shade from the sun. "I would say we could go to my room but the paint probably isn't dry."

"Paint?"

"Paint."

"Then I'm guessing those kids were you cousins."

"They also go by 'Satan's Children' but yes, that's them," I sarcastically grinned. The eldest Campbell son mirrored me sympathetically. In the days following our minor make-out session Matt had dropped by frequently. Either he, Billy, or Wen was at our house or I was at their's. I'm pleased to say that his family had taken to me easily, and vice versa. Wendy and I would relax and exchange gossip, much like Nana and Mrs. Perkins; Billy would shanghai me into touch-games of football; and Sara would get recipes from my grandmother that Mary and I would help her prepare. "I'm working today. Do you want to come? They just got that new Sappho book you asked about."

"I can't. We're going to see Dr. Brooks," he mumbled, squinting from the sun. If I remember correctly, Dr. Brooks was the doctor Matt was receiving treatment from. He was the one running all the experimental tests that would hopefully help Matt's cancer disappear.

"Have you slept at all this past week?"

"Yeah, some," he replied. I could easily tell he was lying. These past two weeks he'd steadily been losing sleep. It had gotten so bad that often he'd look off into space like he was concentrating or looking at someone. I brushed it off as sleep depravation but it was starting to worry me. Straightening up, I spoke softly, "Matt…" I reached across the table. I took his hand in mine. "What's going on…? With you."

Instantly, he tensed. "Nothing. It's just the treatment. I'm tired."

"That's not what I mean."

"I'm fine, Nic."

"Matt…" The blonde boy starred at me with sad, pleading eyes. He looked so weak…fragile…helpless. Gradually, I nodded slowly. I kissed his cheek, gingerly, asking. "Are you hungry? Nana's making chili."

"Sure," Matt offered a small grin. Taking my hand, we embarked inside for lunch. After we ate, Matt went home and I got ready for work. Nana made the brats promise to have my room clean when I returned. I didn't have high expectations. Barnes and Noble was a fun place to work. It smelled like my two favorite things: coffee and books. New books at that. Today, business was slow and I simply stood behind the counter reading a collection Sufi poems by Rumi. With the slow pace of things, my shift seemed nearly non-existent and soon I was clocking out and making it home in record time. Sure enough, my room was spotless when I got there. I assumed my cousins had help.

"Hello?" I called out. I was met with silence. "Nana? Evil little bitches?" Still nothing, however. I made my way to the kitchen where a note sat on the bar. Grasping the paper, I read:

_Nicolette, _

_I'm taking Nathanial and Mallory to Duke's. We'll be back soon. There is leftover lasagna in fridge. If you don't want that, call and order something at Duke's and I'll bring it home. Love you._

_-Nana. _

Snatching up the sheet, I crumpled it in my fist and tossed it in the waste bin. I moseyed up the stairs and changed out of my uniform. Out the window, the Campbell household caught my eye. My gaze held momentarily before I snapped myself out of my daze. Pulling on my high school sweatshirt, I grabbed my keys and headed out. Trekking across the street, I ambled down the dirt path and up the steps. I knocked twice on their door before Peter answered. "Oh, hello there. Natalie, right?"

"Nicolette," Sara corrected her husband. "Hi, sweetie, come in. We were just about to have dinner. Would you like to join us?"

Not twenty minutes later, I sat down to a dinner of shrimp and fish with the Campbell family. Settled in between Matt and Billy, I felt oddly at ease with this new family. Though I'd known them only weeks, though technically I'd known Billy for months, I found myself composed, relaxed. Once everyone was finished eating, Billy, Mary, and I helped clean and clear the kitchen. Wendy, Peter, and Matt migrated to the backyard. When we finished, we joined them. Wendy and I huddled together on the porch from the cold; the rest of the family hanging about the yard. I watched as Sara and Matt turned the jump rope for Mary. Matt was grinning, chatting away with his mother.

"I haven't seen him look so alive in a while," Wendy murmured, shivering slightly.

"I know…he's been so sick…but it's…it's like it's more than that."

"You've noticed it too?!" she shouted, alarmed. Catching herself, she lowered her tone, "Something has been bothering Matt. Badly."

"What do you mean?"

"He's going to kill me for telling you," Wendy muttered to herself before fixing her stare on me. "Last Friday at dinner…well, he kind of freaked out."

Cocking a brow, I echoed her, "Freaked out?"

"Yeah. We were saying grace and he just spazzed. He squeezed the life out of mine and Billy's hands and he was looking around like a madman. He kept ignoring us; like he couldn't hear us. And he was blinking and twitching. Then like, three minutes later he just stopped and looked at us. Then…well, he asked me if I 'saw it too?'. What does that mean?"

Listening to Wen's story, my eyes had grown wider. I felt my shoulders roll of in a shrug, "I have no idea…but I'm worried about him. He stares off in to space when he's with me too. It's just like he zones out. It's almost like-"

"Someone else is there?"

"Exactly!"

Wendy nodded vigorously, glancing at her cousin. "He does that a lot. And get this: the other day we were playing hide-and-seek, with Billy and Mary, you know? Matt volunteered to count and seek so I didn't have to play. I came out here and started to read while they played. Well suddenly I hear Matt just start screaming. He kept screaming and then he started to shout my name. Apparently he was in the basement, in that extended room-"

"The room left over from the morgue?"

"Yep. Disgusting, right?" she grimaced. "Billy and Mary followed me down there and Matt was flipping out again. But it was worse this time."

"How so?"

"He was sweating and he looked…panicked. Before he just looked confused but this time it was different. He looked scared. Almost as if something were after him. We tried to talk to him but he just ignored us. Like he couldn't hear us again. Then he starts shaking his head and mumbling to himself," Wendy's eyes shifted and she pivoted uncomfortably. "Billy was talking to him and Matt just shoved him and screamed, 'Leave me alone'. Billy looked like Matt had punched him."

"Oh God…" I gasped. My eyes trailed over to Matt. He and Peter we talking and laughing together, watching Sara try and wrestle the football away from the two youngest Campbells. He caught my eye and smiled brightly at me. I forced an awkward smile in response. "Wendy…something's not right."

"I know. But what could it be?"

"Honestly…I have no idea."

Silence fell over the two of us. Somber and quiet we watched her family frolic about the yard. I stayed until nightfall when I saw Nana pull into the driveway. I said my goodbyes, giving Billy a small hug, and showed myself to the door. Matt, unsurprisingly, wasn't too far behind. He shut the door behind us, catching my hip as I walked forward. "They really like you, Nic."

"Is that because I'm amazing? I bet it's because I'm amazing?" I grinned coyly, despite my churning insides. Matt grinned back, swiftly kissing my lips. His against mine, her murmured sweetly, enticingly, "Oh most definitely."

He continued to kiss me, tenderly and short. My fingertips traveled up his chest, resting on his neck. Matt's hands held my waist guiding me over to the four-by-four posts holding their porch up. My back pressed against the wood, our lips and bodies mashing together. As the kisses deepened, I felt my back arch, my body pressing harder against his. Matt, like a typical teenage boy, groaned and gripped me tighter. Not wanting to appear too prude-ish, I kept up the pace. I kissed back with a newfound fierceness, pulling on his neck to keep his face on mine. Abruptly, Matt gasped, writhing in pain, as his body jerked back.

"Uh…uh, I'm sorry?" I mumbled, my swollen lips frowning in alarm.

"No, you're fine," Matt rubbed his neck. My eyes studied the spot and I realized a rash had broken out. My eyes widened, "I did not do that. Oh my God, did I do that?"

"No," he shook his head. "It's from the treatment."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"It's alright. My fault-"

"How?"

Matt raised his head, grinning wolfishly. "I got to fresh for you."

"Got to fresh for me…wow, I'm pretty sure my Nana has better game than that," I smirked at him. Matt snorted, "Does she now?"

Matt kissed me once more, his lips tantalizing. As his breath heated my cheeks and lips I felt my body shake and shiver. It was ridiculous. Putting a hand on the safe side of his neck, I pecked his cheek, "I need to go…"

"If you must."

"I must," I slid out of his hands and off the porch. Crossing the road, I spun, "Oh and Matt?! I know something's wrong. Something serious. And you can't avoid talking about it forever! I know it, Wendy knows it, and it's only a matter of time before your parents realize it too!"

What I said was true. Something was going on. Something dark was getting to Matt Campbell and it appeared to be more than his cancer; though that is plenty. The only question was, what? What exactly was causing this boy such distress? So much distress that he was distracted from a terminal illness. And, how exactly was I going to coax it out of him?


	11. Chapter 11

**A major thanks to the following: **CuteSango07, coffeeandcigarettes, Raine44354, lostnbooks, ILuvOdie, Fairy Skull, **and **paperhearts101. **I love you guys, seriously. Your reviews are so encouraging. I'm still having problems finding my muse for this story but I'll be damned if I don't finish it. Anyway, enjoy. Criticism is always appreciated. On a side note, I'm a little freaked out because the minute I start writing about Matt seeing Jonah, my niece walks in (the two-year old) and points at nothing, just the air and asks, "Who's that?" It was odd. On to the story…**

"What do you know about our house?" Matt's words struck me. I was surprised and concerned, especially when I looked at him. "I know you know at least a shred of its past. The other day when I asked, you where about to say something before we were interrupted."

"Before I figured out those little hell raisers were coming," I tried to joke, but the eldest Campbell boy didn't seem to be in the mood. Sitting up, I looked around Matt's room. Yes, I was in the basement. The basement. The basement were dead bodies were embalmed and cremated. It was the first time I'd ever set foot in Matt's room and to be honest, I was creeped out to the max. Everything in me was screaming. My head was yelling at me to bolt up the stairs and, possibly, even out of the house. "Why do you want to know Matt? It was a funeral home, you know that."

"Do you know anything else?" Matt asked, his pained and tired eyes peered up at me.

"Like what?"

"Anything," he shrugged. Eagerly, he sat up. Staring at me, Matt waited. My mouth opened and shut multiple times. Twitched, I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "Matt…I don't know what to tell you. There are rumors in the neighborhood about who used to live here. The mortician was some old guy…Ackles or Ackerman or Aickman, something. Supposedly the guy was an oddball. He didn't talk to anyone on the block and kept completely to himself. Well something happened and suddenly flocks of people were always here. According to my grandfather he was in the papers a lot but he never said what for…."

"I wonder what happened," Matt mumbled. His eyes darted around the room and landed on the large, dark wall separating his room from the mortician station. I watched him as he glared intensely at the door. I felt slightly uncomfortable and asked, "Matt…why do you ask?"

Jerking his head towards me in surprise, he looked as if he had forgotten I was here. "Um…it's nothing, Nic. Don't worry about it."

"Matt," I gingerly placed a hand on his knee. "Wendy and I were talking the other day…she mentioned that you've been acting strange lately."

"What do you mean?" he stiffened. A dark expression crossed his face. He looked defensive. I frozen on the spot; I didn't want to paint Wendy in a bad light. Maybe she didn't want me to tell Matt was she told me. In fact, I specifically remember her asking me not to tell him. Chewing on my lip, I shrugged, "You're just different. We've all noticed."

"What? All?"

"Well, I know I have, and so has Wen. I haven't talked to Mary or Peter or Sara, but I can tell. I can tell Billy has too. We're just worried-"

"You don't need to worry. Its…its the treatment. I see things…"

"Things that aren't there?" I offered, crossing my legs. Matt met my gaze, and nodded swiftly. Matt sighed and ran a hand over his face. Groaning, he laid down and shook his head. "I don't know what to do, Nicolette."

"About seeing things? You need to talk to your doctor-"

"But that's just it," he cut me off once more. "I don't think its from the treatment."

My brow furrowed, my lips pursing. "What…what does that mean?"

"The first night we stayed here I had this…this dream…" the blonde boy caught my questioning glance and continued. "I dreamt I was looking at myself in the mirror and something…something just happened. My face changed. It was horrible. And ever since I've been seeing things."

"But didn't you start the treatment the day you bought the house?" I offered a reason.

"Yes but no!"

"Matt, you're confusing me."

"Yes I started treatment but no, its not because of that."

"Then what, Matt? Why are you seeing…whatever you're seeing? And what are you seeing exactly?" I shot. Things were rapidly spiraling out of control and I was beginning to feel ill at ease. "Is it just these dreams?"

Matt Campbell was silent. He just laid there and studied the ceiling. My lips parted, I was about to persuade him to speak, when he finally answered, "Everyday I see…people."

"People?"

"People. I see people, except they aren't people because they aren't there. They aren't real and I'm the only one who see's them."

"Oh."

"Yeah," Matt scoffed. Sitting up, Matt glared at the ground. He wormed his hands into the pit of his lap and started twiddling his fingers. I un-crossed my legs and scooted next to him. "I don't know what to think," he mumbled. Once more, he ran a shaky hand over his head. "I'm dying, Nicolette. I'm dying and the treatment isn't working and I'm slowly loosing my mind. I don't know what the hell is going on and I can't-" His voice broke and he let out a trembling breath. Carefully, I reached over and wrapped my arm around his shoulders. I rested my forehead against his cheek and tried to soothe him. "I can't control anything. My life is falling apart and there is nothing I can do about it."

"Matt…" I whispered. Slowly, he turned his head to look at me. His eyes were watery and bloodshot. I stroked his cheek and searched my brain, trying to find a way to help.

"I know I sound crazy," he spoke. "I hope you're not freaked-"

"I'm fine. I just…want to help. Matt…these…these people that you see, what do they do? Do they talk to you?"

"No," he spoke, an instant edge in his voice. "They don't speak. They're just there."

"Do think they're gh-"

"Ghosts?" he finished. He snorted and shook his head. I felt slightly stupid, but then he explained, "Ironically, I came to that conclusion today. I was actually just coming back from visiting a reverend when you got here."

"A reverend?"

"Reverend Popescu. He's a patient at the clinic. He's doing the treatment too. I knew it wasn't because of the treatment because he doesn't see them-"

"You never know, Matt. The treatment might effect everyone differently."

"Yeah, maybe…but I talked to him and…he said I have to figure out what they want from me." I echoed what he said and Matt nodded. "I don't know how exactly I'm suppose to do that."

"Have you tried talking to them?"

"No. I guess that's it, huh?" he looked so sick, so weak, so brittle. The cancer was tearing him apart, ripping him from the inside and this, whatever this is exactly, is just adding to the load and killing him quicker. It occurred to me, just then, that Matt was most likely going to die. I could have hope and I could have faith and I could pray but more than likely, Matt was going to pass away within this next year, if not before the end of the summer. This thought shocked me. This boy, this crazy, adorable boy who I had met a mere four months ago, could die. He would be gone from my life forever. Suddenly, I was very scared.

My eyes traveled over Matt's long figure. From his whispy, blonde hair to his lean, pale legs he was gorgeous. Not in the drop-dead model sort of way, but definitely gorgeous in his own element. He was also kind and caring; not to mention the fact that he has this innocence about him. An innocence that isn't necessarily naïve, but more so like he hasn't been corrupted. He's sweet and loving and…dying. Reaching over, I took his hand in mine, entangling our fingers.

Matt looked up, startled. He stared at me for a moment before leaning over and placing a small kiss on my lips. "Thank you for not thinking I'm a freak. Or, at least not telling me if you think I am," he spoke softly against my lips. I pressed a few more kisses to his lips, "I don't think you're a freak."

"Should I be concerned that I just told you I see dead people and you _aren't _worried?" Matt's lips pulled into a sly grin. I shrugged, "Probably."

Matt and I talked for another three hours before I had to go to work. After work, I went home and played charades with Nana and the demon-children. Why I agreed to play with Mallory and Nathanial, I don't know, because they cheated the entire time. Halfway through I got too pissed to continue and went to find something to eat. Nana soon followed and the game was officially over. After dinner, I told my grandmother goodnight (easily ignoring the evil twins) and went to my room. I tried to finish a painting of a country side neighborhood with barns and horses, things like that. My muse wasn't coming and I was steadily falling asleep. So I called It quits and succumb to slumber.

I slept like a new born infant all through the night. The dreamless sleep was probably the best I'd had since thing one and thing two arrived and I was immensely grateful. I woke with a fresh start and tried to be optimistic about Matt's situation. I lounged around the house for most of the morning, just watching bits of television and reading Idylls of the King by Lord Alfred Tennyson. When I started to get bored I decided to do something productive and attempt at washing clothes. While doing my laundry I realized one thing: I only had one jacket. Though that may not seem like a big deal, this one jacket was rather thin. In fact, you couldn't really call it a jacket…more like a nice sweater. The fact that it was swiftly growing colder made this realization stick out. I glanced out the window. The sun was gradually setting and the streetlights began to flicker on. Changing into a nicer outfit, I trekked across the street with the intention of asking Wendy to go shopping with me.

When I got to the front door of the Campbell home, however, my intentions were put on hold. The door flung open to reveal a disheveled Wendy, "Hello? Oh, hey, Nic. Listen I can't really talk right now-"

"Is everything okay?"

"No," she shook her head. "Not really." Suddenly, her eyes watered and her voice buckled. She shut her lips into a straight line, her face practically trembling. Panic coursed through me instantly and I stepped over the threshold, "Wendy, what's wrong?"

"Matt!"

"Is he okay?" I choked out.

"He flipped! But it was horrible this time. I mean, Christ Nic! I thought he'd gone crazy. A-and Mary and Billy they saw! And now they're freaked and I'm freaked and Peter's not here. He's never here so I have to watch them and try to calm them down when I'm freaking out myself! I just don't know-"

"Wendy!" I snapped her out of her hazed rambling. "What happened? Where is Sara?"

"She took Matt to the hospital," Wendy mumbled. Shuddering, she shut the door and tugged at my arm, "Come look."

Confused but curious, I allowed myself to be dragged by Wendy down the hall, passed the stairs, and into the dining room. What I saw, was not what I expected. In the very middle of the room stood a mountainous pile of various wooden pieces of furniture. Chairs, tables, something that looked like a nightstand. The fixtures were stacked on top of each other, spilling over and taking up most of the room. "Wow…why…why did he-"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "But that's not the worst of it."

"What?"

"He went to the hospital because of this," following her around the wood pile, I stopped dead in my tracks. My jaw had dropped in horrified awe. "What…the hell…"

In the back corner of the dining room, the walls had been massacred. Claw marks were etched all long the panels, blood staining the wooden walls. Dozens and dozens of fingernail scratches littered the wood and I could still faintly smell the blood. "Oh my God," I whispered. "Matt did that?"

"Every single one," she answered faintly. "We were gone to get dinner for fifteen minutes. Not even. I just…I want to know why…what's wrong with him?"

"I don't know, Wen," I mumbled, not able to take my eyes off all the blood and claw marks. I sucked my lip in my teeth, chewing until it was numb. "Maybe…I don't know. Um, where are Mary and Billy?"

"Upstairs. They're in Billy's room I think. Why?"

"I bet they're scared."

"Yeah. Should we go talk to them?"

"I would," I nodded. Together, we climbed the stairs and knocked on Billy's door. Sure enough, the cousins were piled together on Billy's bed, chatting quietly. Mary's cheeks were tear stained and Billy's face was pained. "Hey kiddo," I smiled at Mary. Billy offered a weak, twitchy grin, "Hey Nicolette."

"How you two holding up?" Wendy maneuvered around the bed posts and took a seat next to her little sister. Scooping up the small girl, Wendy cradled her against her chest. While slowly rocking her sister, she patted Billy's knee comfortingly. Mary's small voice entered the air, "Why is Matt acting so strange?"

Wendy, Billy, and I shared concerned looks. Wendy was the one to respond, "He's sick, Mar. You know that."

"But he was never like this before," the tiny girl pulled back.

"He's gotten worse, sweetie," I stepped closer to them. Perching on the edge of the bed, I folded my hands in my lap. Disaster seemed to follow this family, well follow Matt, and it seemed like I was doomed to get caught in the cross fire. "Your aunt Sara is with him at the doctor right now so I'm sure he'll be all better when he gets home."

"He'll be cured?"

"No, Mary," Billy mumbled. "Just better." Even as Billy said that, we knew he was lying. But still, we hoped it was true.


	12. Chapter 12

ShortLiLPunk** is my new muse. They pointed out a bunch of stuff that happened earlier on in the story and, since I didn't remember what happened, caused me great confusion. After going back and reading the first four chapters, I know have am awesome plot line that, yes you guessed it, finally has Jonah! I know, right? Its about damn time. He'll be making several appearances coming up, starting in the next chapter. **

**Now, who's ready for a trip to Connecticut? **

**-*-**

The door bell rang. I was sprawled across my bed trying to cope with barely three hours of sleep after the fiasco of Matt attacking their dining room. Through my door I could hear Nathanial and Mallory's muffled squeals and shrieks. I debated on whether or not I should answer the door and save Nana the trouble. I debated, and I lost. Snuggling further into my sheets, the evil laughter grew louder. I winced; they were most likely headed my way.

"Touch me, and I'll kill you," a familiar voice cause me to lazily lift my head from within my bed. Cocking a brow, I muttered, "Shannon?"

"_Nana! _She said she was gonna kill us!" Mallory's shrill cry rang. I felt my ears twitch and tried not to vomit. Mentally, I could picture Nana mumbled, "If only, if only." Suddenly, my door was thrown open and sure enough, there she stood, Shannon the Delirious in the flesh.

"Shan!" I beamed. "What are you doing here?" Her presence was like instant coffee as I sprang from my pillows and sheets, leaping into her arms. I hugged my best friend for dear life, thankful that maybe with her here I could sort through the mess of my summer. Returning my hug, the brunette mumbled, "I thought I'd stop by a give you a final hello before heading to Julie."

'Julie' is Shannon's pet name for Juilliard. She got accepted to the school of performing arts the first semester of our senior year. That's why she went to Paris for the exchange program. It was part of Juilliard's Pre-College Division. She studied at Pont-Aven School of Contemporary Arts for six weeks enhancing her already wicked ballet skills. Despite Shannon's rough exterior and her love for all things down and dirty, she had the body and grace of a dancer.

"I'm so glad you came," I grinned as I helped her toss her bags in the bottom of the closet. "I can't believe you, of all people, remember the way to get here."

My best friend shot me a cheeky grin. "I didn't; I called Nana."

"Why does that not surprise me?" She ignored my question and shot right on, "So how's your summer been going? We haven't talked much."

"Remember Billy?"

"You're still stalking that fresh-"

"I was not stalking him! And no. If anything, he's stalking me. They moved in across the street-"

"Holy shit, he is stalking you!" she erupted with cackles. I glared her way but couldn't hold it, "Shut up, Shannon. God, they just moved here so his brother could do this experimental therapy treatment thing at Goatswood."

"The brother…that was the hunky one who came to the graduation party, right? Michael or something?"

"Matt, yeah."

"How's he doing? You two still all chummy?"

"We weren't chummy then. Christ, you have an over-exaggerating imagination." Though I worded my sentence very carefully, Shannon caught the hint. Instantly, she was grinning like a teenage boy who had just discovered a Playboy magazine for the first time. Slipping onto the bed, she raised her eyebrows, "So you're chummy now?"

"Yes, well…yes but kind of…except yes," I mumbled. With a confused whine, I flopped down onto the bed. "Shannon he's great and he's cute and I love his family. Billy is such a cool guy and Wendy is really amazing too. Plus, his parents are wonderful and super nice…but, God, if he is not damaged!"

"What does that mean? Are you talking about the cancer? That's a really dick move, Nic. If you're not going to date him because he has cancer you might as well just buy yourself a one-way ticket to hell, cause I'm pretty sure that's in the Ten Commandments somewhere between 'Thou shall not steal thy neighbor's wife.' and 'Thou shall not do-the-dirty with thy sister.'," Shan muttered, picking at the fabric on her pants. Crossing her legs, she peered at me, waiting for a response. My jaw was slightly opened, my brow furrowed. She held my stare for about five minutes before snapping, "What?"

"Okay, let me just say, wow. You do know what that's not a commandment right? Yeah, it says you shouldn't be incestuous but that's not a commandment. And secondly, you just combined the eighth, ninth, and tenth commandments with 'Thou shall not steal they neighbor's why'," I shook my head in disbelief. Shannon simply shrugged, "While you paid attention in church I was watching Jessica Slay smoke the bible."

"I still can't believe she did that. I just knew Pastor Jim was going to find out and kick her ass."

"I think he did…" she spoke absent mindedly. "Anyway, back to cancer kid.

"His name is Matt, Shan. And its not the cancer…well, it is…kind of." The curly haired brunette stared at me curiously. "See, he's been seeing things-"

"He sees things? What, like _Dreamscape_?" My mind momentarily flipped back to the cheesy psychic film that came out a few years ago. Giving a shrug, I mumbled, "I guess. Hallucinations are a side effect of his treatment but its like, bigger than that. He flipped out on Billy the other day a-and last, well…he sort of went ballistic on the house."

"Um, do explain."

"He made this giant fire-pit type thing in their dining room them tried to claw the walls to bits, I guess…I haven't talked to him about it. He stayed over night at the hospital but I saw it. Shan, it was horrible."

She peered at me, pity evident on her face. "I'm sorry, Nic. I retract my previous statement about hell. Maybe you should stay away from him. I mean, no offense but best case scenario he lives through the rest of the summer, still buckets of crazy, and then you go off to Brown."

"I just do nothing. We've gotten close. Like…really close and I want to help him." Shannon and I sat in my room for hours, going over everything that had happened since the Campbells moved in and brainstorming ways to help. As we talked, I abruptly realized that since I'd become involved, if that's what you'd call it, with Matt I'd put my friendship with Billy on the back burner. Which was a completely horrible move; especially when you add the fact that Billy is the only reason I know the Campbell family. Immediately, I felt guilty and wanted to go talk to Billy. Since it was Shan's first night visiting, however, I decided it could wait one more day.

That night, Nana, Shan, and I went into town and ate dinner. Mrs. Perkins had offered to watch the evil twins for a while so we could do so. Though Shannon absolutely despised her family gatherings, she always seemed to tag along to ours. Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter, reunions, camping trips, whenever she could she took the chance and invited herself along. We never minded, though. And soon, it got to the point where everyone just referred to her as 'Cousins Shannon'. Thus, it was no surprise that she had invited herself to come stay with us for a few weeks and Nana didn't mind. In fact, I think Nana was happy for her company. Maybe now my grandmother would find a way to get rid of the twins sooner. After all, three minds are better than two.

"When does school start for you, Shannon?" Nana asked as she scooped up a bit of soup. Taking a sip, she waited. Shannon finished chewing her fish and spoke, "About five weeks. I figured I'd stay with you for two, maybe three then head to New York so I can go ahead and get everything situated with my dorm and classes."

"Have you met your roomie yet?" I asked, taking a sip of coffee.

"Nope. I don't even have a dorm yet."

"What?" I asked. "How do you not have a dorm? I had mine before we graduated; and had met one of my roommates."

"Well, I didn't know if I wanted to live on campus or not. Turns out, though, that I can't afford _not_ to. So now I have to get there early and try to snatch up one of the last ones."

I rolled my eyes at her casualness. What if she didn't have a dorm? She just said she couldn't afford an apartment off campus. If I were her, I'd be freaking out. But that's just not how Shannon operates. However, it works for her and something tells me she'll be fine.

"Here's your bill, ladies. Enjoy the rest of your evening," our waitress, Pamela, dropped the receipt with a smile. She offered to get us more coffee, but we declined and she excused herself.

As we finished eating, Nana fished some cash out of her purse and dropped the bills onto the table. "You girls need to go anywhere before we head home?"

I glanced and Shan and shrugged, "Want to go see a movie?"

"Sure."

Nana dropped us off at the house, letting us crap snacks and cash for the film. We stopped momentarily and said 'hello' to Mrs. Perkins. She'd only met Shan a time or two so, naturally, we got stuck a little longer than wanted. Once my grandmother's eccentric friend was done fawning over mine, we left them to their gossip and headed out.

"She's still psychotic, I see; that old broad hasn't changed a bit," Shannon muttered with a grin. We walked down the driveway and stopped at my car. As we did so, my eye furrowed. "I'm a genius."

"Yeah? How so?"

Flashing her a sympathetic grin, "I forgot the keys."

"You suck," she mumbled. As I turned and jogged up the path, she hollered, "Hurry up!"

"_Shut up, Shannon!" _In mere minutes I made it inside, by the old women chattering, pass the demon children, up the stairs, to my dresser - successfully snatching up the keys - and then back outside. Just as I shut the front door and lifted my hands motioning the keys, I halted. On the lawn, chatting things up with Shannon, stood Wendy and Matt Campbell. My throat plummeted down, stopping deep in the pit of my stomach. It knotted and I found myself at a loss of breath.

Suddenly, Matt caught my eye. I bit the inside of my mouth, mentally chanting: _breath, breath, breath; come on, damn it, breath. _Forcing an awkward smile, I hesitantly slipped off the steps and made my way to them. Realizing I was approaching, Shan spun. "You lying little s.o.b."

"What?" I was confused.

"You said they lived across the street. You didn't say they lived in _that _house."

"We do live across the street," Wendy clarified. But I knew that's not what my best friend meant. I winced and spoke, "Shannon, please-"

"That's why he sees things, Nicolette! Its that damn house-"

"Not this again, please, Shannon stop it," I mumbled quickly. "Matt, Wen, ignore her. She's a little bit off the handle, if you know what I mean."

"Nic, seriously? You didn't tell them did you?"

"No, she didn't tell us anything," Matt mumbled, his eyes scrutinizing my every move. "But apparently, she told you plenty."

"Matt, it wasn't like that," I hastily replied. "I was concerned. Especially after last night-" Stopping myself, I realized this was the first time I'd seen him since his latest breakdown. My eyes flew to his fingers. The tips of the boney members were scarring, and red, but there was no trace of blood. Instinctively, I saw him draw them back, curling them into his palms. I cast my eyes downward and shot an angry glance at Shannon.

Wendy and Shannon seemed to sense the tensity in the air. Overall, the evening was rapidly turning awkward. Suddenly, Wendy started to speak, and I was thankful for the breaking silence. However, when she spoke, I twitched with regret that she ever opened her mouth, "Why were you so freaked? What's wrong with our house?"

"What's _not_ wrong with your house?" Shannon snorted sarcastically. With a fierce, burning hate, I glared at her. "Oh, don't look at me like that! You know that house is demented."

"There is nothing wrong with that house. There is nothing wrong with your house," I shot the Campbell cousins a tight-lipped grin. "I've been in there a thousand times and not-"

"But that one time-"

"Shannon, shut up!" I barked just as Matt asked, "What happened?"

"Nothing, nothing happened," I whined. "Shannon, please." I was virtually begging my best friend to not speak. Though Shan sees the situation as nothing more than me not wanting to relive an unusual childhood memory, it was much more than that. And I had a striking feeling the Campbells would too. Matt continued to press the issue, "What happened?"

Shannon held my gaze, her brow furrowing. Gradually, her face softened, the traces of confusion gone and simply shrugged her shoulders, "Nic's right: it was nothing, really. We were just messing around."

"What do you mean?" Wendy asked. "Please, look, we were coming over because we need to ask you about something we found-"

"Oh God," Shan muttered. Wendy ignored her outburst, "Nicolette, we found these…these things in the attic, underneath the floor boards-"

"Bad omen numero uno," Shannon whispered to herself. Again, Wen chose not to reply, "We don't know what they mean or who put them there. You're friend is right, Nic. Something is not right with that house. We…we need your help."

Matt stared at me, anger and hurt written all over his expression. My lips trembled. I wanted so badly to speak, to tell him why I couldn't tell him what happened. The eldest Campbell son tore his eyes away, casting them down at the ground. His mouth pursed in an indignant way. Finally, I mumbled, "What am I suppose to do?"

"Well, you can start by telling us what happened," she offered.

"Nothing happened!" I quipped. I passed a frustrated sigh, simultaneously running my hands over my eyes and through my hair. My keys jiggling against my palm. Shoving the keys deep into my pocket, I mumbled, "So I guess the movie plans are off…"

No one responded and Shan nudged me, "Just tell them. What's the worst that could happened?"

"That's just it, a lot could happen," the Campbell cousins looked at me strangely. I grumbled to myself and cracked, "Fine, okay, you want to know?"

"No," Matt snapped. Since I deserved that, I mentally pretended he'd said, 'Yes please.' Biting the inside of my lip briefly, I explained, "I don't want to tell you what happened because it'll be all the conviction you need."

"Conviction for what?" Matt asked.

Shannon smirked, "The conviction to believe that your house is haunted and your not just some crazy, chemo-effect patient."

"Matt, I didn't want to tell you because its just a bad omen…I-I wanted to believe that it was the treatment…that it wasn't something else," I spoke softly. Matt shifted uncomfortably, passing glances at the girls beside us. I looked at my feet, trying to decide what the right thing to do was.

"Nicolette," Wendy called my name gently. "What happened to you…in our house?"

"It wasn't just me," I shot a thumb Shannon's way. "We were both there-"

"Please let me tell the story," Shannon beamed. "I've got a great narrating voice-"

"Hell no, if they're going to hear it, I'm telling it. You over exaggerate worse than my grandmother-"

"I do not!" she rolled her eyes. Silence filled the air; the cold, stiff, Connecticut, evening air the surrounded us. Rocking back on my heels, I took a shaky breath. I peered at the cousins and mumbled, "See…it happened five years ago, one Thanksgiving break. My family was having a reunion and my cousins Gabriel and Thomas were there…"


	13. Chapter 13

**I am so, so, so, so very unbelievably sorry for how ridiculously long its taken to publish this! I tried nearly fifty times to write this chapter and not once was I satisfied. Since its Jonah's premiere chapter I wanted it to be perfect. I'm finally happy with it now and I hope you all enjoy it. Please review and let me know how it was. You all rock. Thanks.**

**-*-**

"_I'm not going in there. I'm not." _

_Three inches of pure, white snow covered the lawns of the suburban neighborhood. What little leaves had survived the seasonal change were falling. They fluttered to the ground, landing gracefully in the snow. It was autumn in the Connecticut town and Thanksgiving Day had finally arrived. _

"_What? Are you chicken?" _

_We were standing in front of the old Aickman Funeral Home, just across the street from Nana's home. Nana's home which was currently filled with the laughter of our family and served shelter from the holiday weather. It was about time the meal was ready; I assumed they were beginning to gather around the table, bowing their heads in prayer._

"_Shut up, Thomas. We are not going in there. Either of us. Right, Shannon?" _

_The Aickman Funeral Home has been vacant for years. Every since the fire that had started this entire story; a tall tale depicting the boy who had started the fire supposedly haunted the home. Thomas's story goes that whomever enters the home might see the ghost. Should you see the ghost, beware, you'll catch fire and burn up quicker than you can say, "Holy hell." _

"_Scarred of a little ghost, cousin?" Thomas's brother, Gabriel, taunted. I glared at him fiercely. "No. But I'm afraid of my mother. And, oh, you know, the police. Breaking and entering is still against the law, dimwits." _

"_We'll do the breaking," Gabriel grinned. His brother echoed, "You just have to do the entering. See? If the cops come, you'll only go down for half the crime."_

"_Oh that's a relief," I grumbled. I tugged at my best friend's arm, "Shan, come on. I'm hungry." _

"_I want to go in," she stated defiantly, awkwardly jerking her arm from my grasp. My brow furrowed, I felt my lips tug into a frown. Shannon was staring at the house, a blaze in her eyes. The ramshackle home was in desperate need of a repair or two; the steps and porch railings were beginning to rot and a fresh coat of paint wouldn't kill. Suddenly, she tore her eyes away and peered at me, "Come on. Let's go."_

"_What? No. No way. You can go in if you want, but I'll be going home now. Food and warmth, all that good stuff."_

"_What are you afraid of?" Thomas grinned. "Ghosts aren't real. Are they?"_

"_Of course not," I quipped._

"_Then what's to be scarred of?"_

"_I'm not scarred. I'm law abiding!" _

"_Sure, whatever helps you sleep," Gabriel mocked. I glared at them both, stuffing my cold fingers into the pockets of my sweater. A light flutter of snow flakes began to fall. I could feel the little bits hitting my scalp. Semi-patiently, I waited, hoping that Shan would snap out of it and walk back with me. I rocked on my feet and gave a harsh sigh. "Whatever, I'm going back."_

"_Wait. Don't make me go in alone," Shannon mumbled, tugging on my elbow. "Come on, help me prove your cousins wrong. There is no ghost, right? Ghosts aren't real?"_

"_Of course not," I moaned, tired of this repetitive debate. We'd been out here nearly an hour already. My best friend smiled, "See? All we have to do is go in, have a peek around, and then we'll be right back out. Quick as hell. Promise."_

"_Shannon," I practically whined. Behind her, I spotted my cousins passing smirks. Gabriel and Thomas, though not horribly nasty, weren't exactly sweet little boys. They were gangly, rude teenagers while very little care towards personal hygiene. The way they both stared at me, ridicule in their expressions, sent a fire to my skin; an angry burning that force me to tighten my lips, slight my eyes, and nod. "Fine. We'll go and come straight out." _

_Shan broke out into a smile. She nodded to Gabriel, "Go break in." _

_We followed my older cousin around back. He jogged up the worn steps and dug a tattered wallet from his pocket. It took him mere seconds to jimmy open the back door with his ancient boy scout I.D. card. I snorted as he slipped it back into his wallet. "Time to make s'mores and go snuggle up with the boys, huh, cousin?"_

"_Shut up." The boys stood back and motioned the house. Beside Shan, I peered in. I could see a table, some kitchen counters, and a narrow hallway. Wincing, I gave my friend and hard shove. "Go ahead, you first." _

"_Okay," she cleared her throat. Tossing Thomas and Gabriel and confident glare, she waltzed up the stairs and into the house, leaving the door wide open. Biting my lip, I watched as she disappeared into the kitchen. I felt my feet jerk towards the back steps but my body didn't move. _

"_Go on."_

"_Any minute now, Nicolette."_

"_Shut it!" I snapped at them, my body still frozen. Suddenly, Shan appeared, "Come on, dumbass. Let's go." _

_Huffing, I begrudgingly made my way up the porch and into the house. It was frighteningly cold like I had expected. I didn't pass out or get chills upon entering. Also, like I had expected. No. The house was perfect normal from what I could see. Daylight poured in from the several windows, illuminating the kitchen. There was a small plastic table in the middle with three chairs. The décor was a pasty green. It covered the counter tops and consumed the wall paper. _

_Hesitantly, I stepped in further. I ran my fingers along the table top. My hand then grasped the back of a chair. "This is so illegal."_

"_This is so fun," my best friend countered as she lifted the waist basket drop. She stuck her head inside the hole in the wall, peering down. Instantly, my heart dropped to the pit of my stomach. "Don't do that!" I nearly shouted. Shan jumped back with a chuckle, "Calm down, Nic. Its just a dumbwaiter." _

"_Still…just…don't, don't do that. Please." _

"_Whatever," she muttered. I followed her led out of the kitchen and down a small hallway. There were stairs to up ahead and what seemed to be a dining room next to the kitchen. "What's this?" _

"_What's what?" I turned my head at the sound of her voice. She had paused inside a door. A light suddenly flickered on. My eyes widened until I realized she had done it. As my heart pounded faster and the beat thudded in my ears, I gulped and forced myself to calm down. I was being highly irrational. "What is it?"_

"_A basement, I guess. Come on," she began down the stair case. _

"_Oh, no, Shan. We really don't have to."_

"_Why not?" _

_She didn't slow. I bit my lip, lazily following. "I dunno. All the creepy shit happens in the basement."_

"_Oh, right, like what?" _

"_Like that thing that happened in Amityville!"_

"_That New York haunting?"_

"_Yeah. Remember, that guy went crazy cause his basement was haunted. It made him shoot his entire family! Basement are evil," I mumbled the last part, finally getting to the bottom of the stairs. The room was rather large, and composed of an open space. Boxes lined the back wall and led over to what seemed to be a set of doors. The doors were wooden, laden with thick, black glass for windows. _

"_Nicolette, you have a basement," Shan pointed out, walked numbly towards the doors._

"_So? How often do I go in it? Shan, stop! Come on, you don't know what's back there. Stop! I'm serious!" I made no move to join her and felt my pulse quicken as she reached for the handle. Turning the knob, she flashed me a smile. She tugged and pulled and yanked, but thankfully, it was to no avail. Much to my pleasure, and Shannon's distain, the doors remained shut. _

"_Thank God. Shan, come on. This place is Creepsville, USA. Let's just go." _

_I fled up the stairs and maneuvered through the hall, heading for the back door. "Hang on, speedy. I wanna check up stairs." _

"_What?! No, Shannon, please. Christ, I have chill bumps," I motioned my arms. My best friend snorted, "Than you're a bigger pansy than your cousins gave you credit for."_

_I glared strongly at her. She simply shrugged. "Don't worry. I won't tell them you let a little ghost bother you. But seriously, hang on just one second. I'm going to go upstairs and peek around. Maybe they left something or…something. I don't know. Just don't leave me. Not yet, anyway."_

"_Now who's afraid of the ghost?" I mocked. Not liking the idea of waiting down here all alone, I crossed my hands over my chest. I chewed on the inside of my cheek and stepped closer to the staircase. Shannon trotted up the steps quickly, pausing at the top. "I'll be quick." _

_Once again, I found myself rocking on my heels trying to preoccupy my thoughts. My eyes traveled slowly around the foyer of the home. The front door was large and had windows on either side. But this much I had already gather as I'd seen it from outside many times. The stairs were a deep, rich chocolate. The wooden needed polishing and the paint was beginning to chip on the walls. All of a sudden, I heard running above me. _

_My body twitched in anxiety and I called out, "Ha, ha. Very funny, Shannon." _

"_Did you say something?" she called from the other side of the home. Gulping, I clamped my eyes shut. Its nothing. Nothing at all. You're over reacting. Stop letting Gabriel get to you. Its nothing. "Its nothing. Never mind. Just hurry up!" _

_Despite my mental chanting, I still felt uneasy. I once more tried to distract myself. I bit my lip and started to think back on the morning. We'd arrived at Nana's just after nine o'clock, Shannon stuffed into the backseat with myself. Her parents had left the night before on an oddly timed second honeymoon; they didn't favor family gathers. Too many embarrassing stories, too many bad memories, too many…just too many people, really. Thus, Shannon opted to coming along for my family festivities. _

_Ahead of me, I heard the sharp creaking of a step. My eyes snapped forward and caught sight of someone on the stairs. Someone who was, indeed, not Shannon. I froze. _

_The boy couldn't have been more than twenty. This much was clear immediately. His pale eyes were hallowed and tired. Weak even. Purple circles under the eyes tainted his smooth, pale skin. The skin was unscarred and blemish free. It was perfect except for the worry lines on his forehead and the wrinkled, laugh lines around his mouth. _

_He wore brown pants resembling a old pair of my father's work slacks. A finely pressed white, collared shirt was buttoned over his chest. The cream suspenders attached to his pants caused slight creases in the shirt. The pants, I quickly noted, were the same dark shade of brown as his hair, which fell neatly and perfectly trimmed just above his brow line. _

_His expression went from frightened to shock; as I'm sure mine did. The boy's eyes were wide, his mouth hanging agape. I mirrored his expression, and then, screamed. The high pitch noise tore through the house like a tornado. Shannon came running instantly. She paused on the landing just above the boy. Her eyes widened and before she shouted, "Holy shit! Ghost!" _

_With a glance in my direction and a flickered of the lights, he was gone. The space were he stood only moments ago was empty and the room suddenly felt cold. "Let's get the hell out of here!" Shan screamed dashing down the stairs with a speed I hadn't seen since her mother found out she'd skipped school last year. I was still frozen on the spot when Shan bounded off the last step. _

_Knowingly, she took my arm and dragged me out of the home. _

"Thomas and Gabriel were gone when we got outside; gone back to the house, I guess," Shannon's voice broke my thoughts. It snapped me out of my memory land and hurled me into the present. We were no longer on the back lawn of the Aickman home, screaming and crying in panic. We were on the front lawn of Nana's house, face to face with two of the Campbell children.

Matt's lips twitched as he grimaced at the story. Wendy simply stared at the ground, her jaw dropped. I cleared my throat. "We've never told anyone that story…not even Gabe and Tommy."

"Especially not them. They never would have believed us," Shannon interjected. I saw her eyes drift over Wendy's shoulder to stare at the old home. "Of course, we've been back."

"Oh, yeah," I nodded. "The Smiths bought the house that April. Restored most of it. Completely renovated the kitchen and some of the attic. Then after them the Neeley's. I've been back there a dozen times…but…but I only saw him that one time."

"This boy," Matt's grave voice struggled. The hoarseness tore at my stomach. I felt for him. The poor, weak boy. "He had brown hair…and was dressed older?"

"Like from around the twenties or thirties. Yeah. Why?"

"You've seen him, haven't you? He's the ghost you've been seeing," Shannon spoke my fear. The blonde boy's gaze fell to the ground. Slowly, he nodded, "Yes."

"Oh God," Wendy whispered. "Our house is haunted. Great. This is just…great."

"Do you know who he is?" Matt ignored his panicked cousin. Matt's eyes caught my own. I saw in them a certain desperation. He was growing weaker and weaker by the second. His cancer would soon take over if the treatment didn't begin to work. My heart gave a twinge. Though I've known him for only a short time, I've steadily grown fonder and fonder, closer and closer to the eldest Campbell son. With his cute chuckle, his half-hearted jokes, and those eyes…those deep, soulful eyes, he's wormed his way into my life.

That night when I first kissed him, and I don't mean on the cheek or a quick peck on the lips, I mean _really_ kissed him…that night I told myself we would stay together for just the summer, if that long. I told myself that it wasn't a real relationship and it wasn't going anywhere. That he would either get sicker or I would simply leave for college and that would be that.

But standing here, staring into those eyes. Standing here, seeing how much pain and conflict and confusion that he's dealing with. Standing here, I'm finding it impossible to walk away. Impossible to simply have a summer romance and wish him the best before we part ways.

Matt held my stare with an intensity that made my lips twitch, made my throat burn. No, when the end of summer came, I don't know what I'll do, but I do know that I won't walk away. I won't be able to.

"Do you know who he is? Who the boy is?" Matt pressed. Shakily, I shook my head, "We always just assumed it was Aickman's son. Matt…I'm sorry. I was just…I don't know. I didn't want to make things worse."

"Don't worry about it…" he mumbled. Silence consumed the air after that. Too many things were being left unsaid. Everything was rapidly growing tenser, more awkward. Finally, Wendy spoke, "Well? What the hell are we going to do?"


	14. Chapter 14

**I know I've been seriously slow in updating lately. I'm not sure why. My muse is on vacation, I guess. Still, a chapter every few weeks is better than quitting right? Anyway, here's the new installment. Review and I might publish faster! **

**-*-**

Goatswood Community Library closed at exactly six-thirty PM every night and opened at exactly nine-fifteen every morning, Monday through Saturday. When the doors open the next morning, Matt, Wendy, Shannon, and I were waiting. We slipped in the double entrance and dispersed. Wendy went straight to the dozen of shelves lined with books, Matt went to the historian, Shan went to the newspaper archives, and I took our findings to a table. I pulled out a chair, plopping myself down spreading out the photographs.

This morning when the Campbell boy showed me the pictures they found in the attic, I thought I'd have a heart attack. Sure enough, the ghost Shannon and I had seen was present in every single picture. He wore the exact same outfit in two of them; his clothing assembles varying only slightly in the rest. He wore a new jacket here, a different color shirt there. It was nerve wrecking.

He wasn't alone in all the photos. In half of them he was seated a table surrounded by five to six people. The people were always different. They were men, women, business men, homeless men, elegant women, promiscuous women, etc. A man with a thick beard and circular glasses was present in some of the pictures. He stood in the background, his eyes on the mysterious boy.

Then…in the ones where he was alone…there was something. There was some sort of material, something that looked that a tangible puff of smoke rising from his mouth, ears, and nose. The boy's eyes would be clamped shut, his hands gripping the table, and his head tossed back. He looked as if he were in agony. But no one in the pictures appeared concerned.

Matt and Wendy didn't just find photos. There was a box of small, half-moon shaped clippings. They looked like shriveled peeling of fruit. When they first showed us, I held one up to examine it. The half-moons were cold.

The pictures on the table peered up at me. I cringed. What was going on? Was this boy really haunting their house or were we all just insane? What was he doing in these pictures? Who is this boy? Who are these people? What the hell is happening?!

"Nicolette?"

"What?!" I shrieked, jumping out of the seat. Matt's eyes widened, confusion fluttering across his face. "Sorry, I-I was just…thinking."

My sudden outburst earned us a hearty glare from the librarian and a quick, "Please, this is a library, keep your voices down."

Matt pulled out a chair and we sat. "Are you okay?"

"Are you?" I challenged. Matt nodded, his yes focusing on his hands. I felt myself pale, my stomach clenching. Reaching over, I took his hand. Our palms together, I whispered. "Matt, I am so sorry about all of this. I should have told you but I never…I never imagined it would be like this. Hell, I thought me and Shan were crazy. I just wish I knew what was going on."

"Me too," he mumbled. A heavy silence fell over us. The atmosphere in the quiet library only added to the foreboding unknown. Biting my lip, I shook his hand, "Did you find anything?"

The blonde boy replied, "No. Not really. The historian said she couldn't really tell me anything about the old home because she only just moved her about three years ago."

"Some historian she is," I attempted a light joke. Matt gave a weak smile. Suddenly, Shannon appeared cradling three leather clad books under her arm, "Holy shit, you two. Look at this. Wait, where's Wendy?"

"I don't know," I mumbled. Scooting out of my chair, I spoke, "I'll go find her."

Weaving up and down the isles, I searched for our friend. I found her over by the projector looking at slides of old newspaper articles. She flashed me a grin and waved me over. "What could you possibly be happy about?"

"I know who he is," Wen announced proudly.

"Who?"

"Jonah. Jonah Aickman."

"Aickman? Ramsey had a son?" I snorted, not sure whether to be happy that we finally know who it is, disgusted that someone reproduced with Ramsey, or sympathetic for Jonah, he had to grow up with Aickman as a father in a funeral home. "No wonder your place is haunting."

"Tell me about. Check this out. Jonah…he was gifted."

"What do you mean 'gifted'?"

"He was a medium," she clarified. A gush of air slipped from my lips in disbelief. My lips jutted out in a pout and I groaned, "Can nothing be simple?"

"Apparently not. Where're Matt and your friend?" Wendy asked, grabbing some of the slides. She picked up some scrapes of ancient newspapers, handing them to me. I took them and motioned for her to follow me.

"Her name is Shannon, by the way," I joked. Wendy smiled apologetically.

"Sorry. I'm not good with names. Faces, however, now I'm excellent with remembering faces."

I led Wendy back to the table. Shannon and Matt were hunched over a random article. Matt's face was distorted in a grimace. I watched as his eyes scanned the page, his brittle fingers gripping the worn paper. My chest constricted in worry. Wendy caught my watchful eye. She felt it too.

Slipping over to them, Wendy announced her discovery. Shannon furrowed her brow at this, "He was a what?"

"A physic, basically. He could communicate with the dead. Or so it says. They use to hold séances at the funeral home. Kind of like summonings. They'd call the spirits to the house. People came from all over wanting to talk to their husbands or wives or they wanted to know where Aunt Jen hid the family jewels," Wendy explained. She rummaged through her stack of newspapers. Pulling two from the collection, she flattened them onto the table for us to see.

"It says here," her lean finger landed on an article in the middle of the second column. "…that they were famous. Harvard professors, Ivy League scholars, all kinds of big shots came to witness these events. They would sit in with Jonah while they held the séances. They were all convinced it was real."

She lifted one of the pictures out of the stack and held it out to us. "See all this stuff?"

"The jello-smoke coming from his face?" Shan bluntly questioned. Wen nodded. She spoke flatly, "Yeah…that. Its ectoplasm."

"And what is ectoplasm?" Matt asked. Wendy picked up a hard-back book I hadn't noticed she'd brought to the table. Flipping through a page she'd marked with an article, she read, "A mysterious protoplasmic substance streaming out of the bodies of mediums. Ectoplasm is often a gelatinous material escaping the body through the natural Orvis's. The mouth, ears, nose…and even some of the lower Orvis's."

"This is just too surreal," I murmured to myself, my eyes roaming the various articles and photos. Next to me, Matt caught my stare. He appeared apologetic. Wendy cleared her throat, "Well, there's more."

"Of course there is," Shan sighed.

"Here's where it gets a little weirder-"

"Because things aren't weird enough," Matt cut off his cousin. Wendy shrugged and continued, "Okay so there was a summoning led by Aikman with Jonah as the medium. All four sitters and Aikman were found dead. Cause of death,-unclear."

Reaching across the table, she pulled out another clipping. The top read in a dark, bold print 'SÉANCE OF DEATH! FIVE DEAD; ONE MISSING.' Cautiously, I took it from here. "This is cheerful."

"So Jonah killed them?" Matt assumed. Wendy sighed, "Nobody knows. I mean he went missing, vanished. No one had ever seen him again."

"Til now," I added.

"Well," Shannon sat up straighter. "I'll see your death of five, Wendy, and raise you one hundred missing bodies."

"Excuse me?" Wendy's face shifted in confusion.

Shannon lifted one of her books off the chair next to her and dropped it onto the table with a loud thud. Again, earning us a glare from the haughty librarian. My best friend ignored the warning glance and began to skim through the book. Stopping about a third of the way through, she compressed the pages and spoke, "In the late forties they were expanding the highway and they tried to relocate some of the old plots. Over a hundred bodies that were suppose to be there weren't. Nothing but empty coffins filled with sand bags; someone stole the bodies."

"Wait, the plots used by Aickman's funeral homes?" I asked. She confirmed, "The very ones."

"Do you think Ramsey took 'em?" Shan asked.

Matt seemed to think so. "Aickman. Jonah…Aickman or Jonah."

"Maybe," I agreed. "But why?"

"Well, I did read somewhere," Wendy spoke cautiously, eyes roaming the contents of our table. "…that Aickman was somehow able to enhance Jonah's clairvoyance."

"How?"

"It didn't say," she gave a shrug, sliding the clipping over to us. Matt picked the article up, and parted his lips, a crease forming on his brow. Shannon broke the momentary silence. "So basically we have no idea what really happened…"

"Yeah. But I think I know someone who might," Matt told us of a reverend he'd met at the hospital. The reverend's name was Popescu. He and his wife had both been diagnosed with cancer five years ago. They'd started treatment only two years post hearing the news. His wife had not survived but he was still living. If anyone could help us out, Matt figured, it would be him.

It was decided that Matt would call the reverend when he got home and see if he wouldn't mind coming to check out the house. But first, for a moment, together, the four of us sat and took in everything we'd discovered. We browsed through the clippings and looked at all the pictures trying to wrap our heads around what we'd uncovered.

Overall, I think we're handling things well. Or at least as well as is to be expected.

Shannon and Wendy departed, putting back all of the books and miscellaneous newspapers. As they did so, I looped an arm around Matt's waist and we began to make our way to my car.

"Maybe if your friend can help us get rid of these ghosts things can be normal again and you can get better," I spoke softly, holding open the library door. When we slipped outside a gush of cold, Connecticut winds slapped us in the face. We collectively shivered.

"I doubt it," Matt murmured, eyes on the ground. "But here's to hoping."

"You _will _get better, Matt."

The eldest Campbell scoffed. "I've been trying to get better for almost two years now. I've done everything from chemo to therapeutic yoga. I've been forced to drink meal supplements and live with a breathing tube for months at a time-"

"And look at you know! You don't need the breathing tube anymore, you're hair has grown back, you'll-"

"I need help walking to the car, Nic," he spat. "That's not exactly healthy."

"But it's better," I vocally begged. I needed him to have hope. He had to believe he would get better. If he didn't, how could we?

"This is my last shot…if this doesn't work, there's nothing else they can do." Matt's tone was without bitterness as he spoke. It held an air of acceptance as if he knew death was coming and he was preparing himself. This thought made me sick.

"Then we have to make it work."

We were standing at the car. I dug the keys from my pocket and swiftly unlocked the doors. Leaning against the hood, I glanced at the doors, looking for our companions. Matt slowly leaned against my side for support. Reaching down, I took his hand and laced our fingers together. I pecked his cheek softly.

Matt trembled at my touch and I couldn't help but smile. Sheepishly, he peered at me through long lashes. "Nicolette…"

"Hmmm?"

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"Helping us," he shrugged. "For caring enough to be here, I guess."

"You don't need to thank me for that," I assured him. "I want to be with you, Matt."

"And what do you define as 'being with me'?"

I stared into his hopeful, tired orbs. Biting my lip, I thought about his question. What did I mean? I like him. This much is fairly obvious. I like him tremendously. He's gentle, kind, and good-natured. Not to mention his ridiculously humble attitude. Matt's attractive and witty and he sucks you in immediately.

I couldn't word my feelings properly. I couldn't tell him how I felt.

He sensed my loss for words and nodded solemnly. Tearing his eyes away, he shuffled and mumbled, "I get it."

"No you don't," I whispered. Another gush of wind hit us. He shivered, pulling his jacket tighter to his body. "Matt."

My blonde friend looked up. Tilting forward, I placed a chaste kiss to his mouth. I barely pulled back, speaking against his lips, "I mean I want to be with you."


	15. Chapter 15

**Holy shit, I didn't realize how much time has passed since I updated this story. Well…uh…the suspense makes it better, right? Or is that just my opinion? **

**Anyway, major thanks to all of you amazingly loyal readers who are sticking with my procrastinating ass, especially the following: **

**jessedaro**

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**alexx-caulfield**

**samilia **

**CuteSango07 (who reviews like crazy!)**

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**Roxxi May (who always help my writing improve, thanks for that)**

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**-*-**

Matt, Wendy, Shan, and I had made it back to the Campbell household in record time. We'd made the call; Matt's reverend friend would be on his way shortly. I spotted Billy out back, relaxing on the porch. Though his expression looked bored, I could tell he was worried. I excused myself from the group.

"Hey blondie," I plopped down next to him. "How you been?"

"Confused," he mused aloud, tossing me a sideways glance.

"About?"

"Everything," he shrugged. I nodded, thoughtfully, "Life would be so much damn easier if it came with a map. Especially when everything seems to be changing…it's like you can't tell which way is up, you know?

_Kinda like now. _We were both thinking it. Only, we didn't say it; we didn't need to.

"So, you and Matt, huh?" Billy spilt the momentary silence. I was a little shocked by his bluntness. Then again, this is Billy. My jaw hung, slackened slightly before I composed myself.

"Matt and I, what?"

"Are together," the younger Campbell boy scoffed. "I'm not stupid, Nic. You're my friend at school, and now that you graduated and you're around Matt all the time…its like suddenly I'm not cool, enough or-"

"No, Billy. It's not like that at all, and you know it-"

"Do I?"

"You should!" I snapped. "Billy I was your friend first. You've got dibs, okay? But yes, I do like your brother…but it's totally different, Billy."

"Different how? I'm not mature enough? Or smart enough, maybe?"

"No!" I shrieked. My eyes pleaded with my young friend. "Billy…do you know that you're the only freshman I talked to? That you're the only person bellow the age of seventeen that I think is worth the time of day? Please, Billy, don't feel like I don't care about you. It's just…with Matt's cancer I have to-"

"Yeah, the cancer," Billy mumbled, but not unkindly. His tone was softer, his face frowning. "It's always the cancer."

"He didn't ask for this, Billy."

"I know," he stated quietly. "Neither did we."

I bit my lip. What do you say to that? The answer: nothing. Because nothing can be said that could make this situation any more or any less than what it is. So I simply sighed and rested my head against my knees. Billy and I fell into a deep silence. The kind that hangs in the air like a tense blanket ready to strangle all in its path. Every few seconds we would look at one another. I don't want to lose the strange blonde boy as a friend, but if he's going to reprimand me for helping someone who needs it…

Then again, it's not like he fully understands. I'm sure Matt hasn't told him everything. Should he? I guess I see why he wouldn't. Why put his sibling through anything he doesn't have to go through? Why not protect him while he still can? Why no-

"Hey, Nic. He's here," Wen suddenly popped her head out the back door. "Billy, where's Mary?"

"Upstairs, playing with her dolls, what else?" he murmured. His hurt, angered, and worried eyes scaled the backyard. They looked anywhere but at me. I nodded, standing. After muttering a simple 'bye' to Billy the kid, I followed Wendy into the house; Reverend Popescu, Matt, and Shannon were patiently waiting in the dining room. I paused a moment to take in the holy man's appearance. He was an older man, most likely in his late forties, possibly early fifties. His eyes were tired, weak, just like Matt's. His skin was pale and practically translucent. Blood was easily seen swimming beneath it. He wore a simple dark suit with an old top hat which covered his thinning salt-and-pepper hair.

Before them on the table sat everything we'd gathered; the photos, articles, clippings, the strange box with unknown moon-shapes, etcetera, etcetera. I motioned the various items. "Do you think we're crazy?"

"No, child, I don't," the gentle man shook his head. We took seats around the table. Since Matt had given the reverend a debriefing over the phone, we were able to get down to busy immediately. The first thing we showed him was the pictures. I watched with weary eyes as his fragile fingers grasped the ancient photos. Shannon tossed me a fleeting look of concern.

"Do you think it's real?" Wendy asked feebly.

"Well," he responded, not removing his gaze from the pictures. "I've seen plenty of fakes but I've seen the real thing once…in Paris. It was the most horrible thing I've ever seen."

Reverend Popescu gave a small sigh and gathered all the photographs in his hands. Shifting through them, he drew one, placing the rest on the table. Four steady pairs of eyes were on the holy man. He spoke, "Now this must have been a very powerful medium."

The cancerous Campbell son shot us a worried look as his cousin gently pushed the box containing the strange moon-shapes toward the reverend. Without question, the elderly man lifted the lid and peered down into the tin. Ever so slowly, he picked up on of the moons. The four of us squirmed in anticipation as he carefully studied the item. Suddenly, his expression fell and his lips pursed.

"What is that?" Shannon asked what we were all dying, no pun intended, to know.

"An eyelid," Popescu replied grimly. "A human eyelid."

"Oh God," I gasped. My best friend paled beside me and the two Campbells stared in disbelief.

"What are they for?" Wendy questioned.

"Necromancy: corpse bothering. It's a loathsome form of magic….to gain power through control over the dead by keeping relics of their bodies," the reverend placed the eyelid back in the box. Gingerly, he shut the top and slid it away. I watched Wendy flinch as it got closer to her. The troubled girl slunk back in her seat.

My eyes fell on Matt next. Instantly, he met my gaze. Sympathetically, I stared at him. This is a lot to take in. He seemed to gather my emotions because he nodded, hesitantly, and gave a shaky, half-hearted smile. Shannon's voice brought us back to the conversation, "Why eyelids?"

"Traditionally, we close the eyelids so that they can find peace in the darkness. Keeping their eyes open, it makes them see. Perhaps…he intended them to be watchmen, or guardians of this house…or its secrets," I cringed at the holy man's words. What kind of sick bastard would do something like that?

I listened, dazed, as he continued, "Either way, somewhere there are bodies that belong to these eyelids-"

"The missing bodies," Shannon interjected. "He took the bodies from that highway and used them for…for this?"

"It looks like it," Matt mumbled, his brow furrowing sadly. Reverend Popescu frowned, "I think ultimately, Aickman intended to enhance Jonah's powers."

"Well h-he amplified Jonah's séances," Wendy informed him quietly. He nodded, "Somehow he bound the spirits to their bodies, yes, as an amplifier."

"How would he do that?" I asked.

"Probably through some form of ritual or desecration. Perhaps buried outside the house."

I bit my lip, shivering at the very thought. Mournful expression fell all around the table. For a moment, no one spoke as we peered at one another in bewilderment. The reverend sensed our troubles and placed his arms, palm up on the table. He suggested that we pray, pray for the poor souls and for the boy, Jonah. We all agreed and joined hands. I, seated between Wendy and Shannon, had both of theirs. We were all ready to go; however, when Matt slipped his hand into the reverend's, he froze. Matt's body went ridged.

"Not again," Wen groaned. My eyes widened in fear, "What's happening?"

Matt's gaze snapped over to me. His eyes were afraid and glaring. He glanced all around the room, at each one of us. He saw us as if we weren't really there. The beautiful boy's lips pulled back into a quick grimace, and then his head fell. It landed on the table with a loud thud. I winced, my eyes growing wider. Shannon gripped my hand tightly, demanding, "Someone do something!"

"Matt…?" Reverend Popescu spoke tentatively. Matt's head began to shake on the table. As it gradually lifted, his body contorted. He thrashed this way and that, shaking the table. I sat, awe-struck in horror as Matt jerked and twitched.

Reverend Popescu leapt as quickly as he could from his chair and stalked over to Matt. He took Matt's head in his hands, trying to steady his convulsing body. Wendy, Shan, and I also stood. I felt tears pool in my eyes. To say I was frightened would be saying the very least.

Shannon went to the reverend's side. She tried to aid him in snapping Matt out of his hallucinated world. I whimpered, "Matt," just as a door slammed. Suddenly, Sara Campbell was flying into the room.

"What are you doing?!" she screeched at the reverend. "What are you doing in my house?! Stop! Stop!"

"Its okay," Wendy side-stepped me to get to her aunt. "We asked him to come."

"You asked him to come?" Sara shouted incredulously. Reverend Popescu backed away from Matt under Sara's frenzied glare. Shannon knelt beside the sickly boy. She gently shook his shoulders, "Hey…Matt…kid, wake up."

"I am a Reverend," I heard Popescu explain to Sara. Ignoring them, I joined Shan at Matt's feet. "Are you alright?" my hands cupped his face. "What happened to you?"

Matt didn't respond; he simply fell into me. His forehead rested on my shoulder as he lazily hugged me. I wrapped my arms around his weak frame and couldn't help but to cry. Behind us, I could hear Sara and the Reverend arguing. Slightly, I pulled away. "Is this what's been happening to you? These…these episodes? Is this what Wen was talking about? Goddamnit, Matt! Why didn't you tell me?"

"What was I suppose to say?"

Suddenly, Sara was pulling us apart to look at her son. "Matt, honey, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, mom," he gruffly spoke. I wiped the tears from my face and eyes as the worried mother inspected her son. Shan and Wendy had disappeared. I assume they went to check on Billy and Mary. I stood. My mind was heavy with fear, confusion, worry, anger, pain…everything sort of mashed together to create an atomic bomb of emotions within me. I knew I was going to explode soon. I just hoped I could be alone when I did.

When Shannon and Wendy reentered the room, they assured Mrs. Campbell that Billy and Mary were fine. They were both upstairs; Mary watching television, Billy playing with some cards. She thanked them and asked us kindly if we'd go home.

"Please, I just need sometime to speak with my family."

"No, we understand," Shannon nodded; she looped her arm in mine and guided me to the door.

"Nic," Matt called, making his way down the hall. Shan motioned for me to meet him, "I'll meet you back at the house."

I swallowed hard and agreed. When Matt made it to my side, he took my hand in his and frowned, "I'm sorry…I'm sorry that all of this is happening and that you have to be a part of it."

"I'm okay, really. I'm just…processing. Matt…what…what's going to happen to you?" I raised my hand and stroked his cheek. Tears were once more gathering in my eyes. I willed them away with a sudden realization; this 'little summer fling' I'd once declared Matt and I as, was no longer just a fling. Rapidly, our relationship was spiraling into something much bigger, much stronger.

Matt's frown deepened, "I don't know."

I bit my lip. I attempted to speak again, but no words came out. There was nothing more to say. So instead, I leaned forward and pressed my mouth to his. It was an anguish filled kiss. Matt's hands cradled my face, holding me against him. The tears that threaten to fall finally spilled over and as our lips moved in sync, I felt my heart melt. This poor, beautiful boy didn't deserve what he was getting. The cancer was bad enough but now the wrath of dozens of ghosts raining down on him too? There is only so much one person can take.

"Matt," I breathed against him. The blonde boy wrapped my arms around his neck and held me. "Hmmm?"

"I think…uh, I don't really…I mean, I might. Damnit, I really, really like you," I stated. I checked his expression for anything new. Nothing. Matt smiled slightly, "I gathered that."

"Okay, but…I really like you and I think…I think I'm starting to love you."

I stopped breathing. A sudden self-consciousness overcame me. I chewed on my lip. Matt looked terribly stricken. He frowned once more and dropped my gaze. _Oh wow_, I thought. Biting down harder on my lip, I turned to leave.

"Nicolette," he spoke softly, practically whispering. "Hang on a sec."

I did so. Matt, with my face still in his hands, began to caress my cheeks. He searched my eyes for a moment before planting a sweet, chaste kiss on my lips. "I love you…I do, but you shouldn't love me-"

"Wh-"

"I'm dying, Nic. The treatments not working, the doctors don't know what to do. And now, with this…I'm not going to last much longer and I know that. I can feel that. I've accepted it but you…you're gonna live. You're going to live a great and long life-"

"Okay," I cut him off. "I'll live. You might. You don't know that you're going to die, Matt. Even if you do…even if I do lose you, that doesn't mean I can't be with you know."

"It'll only make it harder-"

"I don't care," I argued, kissing him again. A few moments and a dozen kisses later, I hugged him to me, pulling back to rest my head against his. "I should get home. You're mom's still waiting."

"Yeah…I'll call you tomorrow." With that, I left. I crossed the street and entered Nana's. When I shut the door behind me, I collapsed against it. My chest hurt. So did my head. I propped my elbows up on my knees and did something I haven't done in a long time: I prayed. I prayed for Matt to get better. I prayed for the spirits to leave. I prayed for whatever happened to Jonah. I prayed that whatever I was feeling was real and would last. I prayed and I prayed.

"Nic, is that you?" Nana's voice called. I looked up just in time to see her walk into the foyer. Her brow was furrowed, "Shan just got home. She's up in your room. Nic, are you crying? Darling, what's wrong?"

"Nana," I whispered. I wanted so badly to tell her in hopes that she, my all-knowing grandmother, could lend a helping hand. But I couldn't. "Uh, nothing," I stood, brushing my tears back. "I'm fine."

She stared at me long and hard, and then pursed her lips.

"Nicolette," my grandmother chided. "What is going on with that boy? I know something is up-oh, don't give me that look. I was not born yesterday, child. Now either you can tell me what's going on or I can drag him in here and make him tell me. Your pick."

I heaved a heavy sigh and teetered on my heels. "You won't believe me."

"Try me."

"Here it goes…" I drew a deep breath and told her everything. I told her about Billy. About Matt's therapy. Thanksgiving. Jonah. The missing bodies. Shannon's recent fascination with the whole ordeal. My rapidly growing feelings for Matt. My guilt for Billy's neglect. Aickman. The ghosts. Everything.

Once I finished, I sat back at the bar. I was ready, ready for whatever my crazy grandmother was going to dish out.

Nana's mouth closed and her lips pursed. She leaned against the counter and peered at me, intently staring. Several silent minutes lapsed. Finally, she pinched he bridge of her nose, her eyebrows drawing tightly together.

"Now, Nicolette…I can do two things here. One: I can take in what you just told me and seriously accept that you believe what you just said is true. I can then, recommend a good facility for you to go to and try to help you as best I can. Or two:…" Here the older woman stopped. Again her lips pursed. She appeared torn as she spoke. "I can think you're lying to me. That you're really fooling around with this boy and instead of confessing and dealing with the inevitable awkwardness of the situation, you created this concoction of a story. At which point, I'd reprimand your irresponsibleness and demand you use protection-"

"Option two," I mumbled. She raised her eyebrows, "Two?" I nod.

"Two it is," Nana sighed. "Nic, be careful. Things are starting to go around. Don't get pregn-"

"We're being safe. We're just fooling around," I said; adding in for good measure, "There's no such thing as ghosts."

"Good girl."

"Night Nana."

"Goodnight." With that, I retreated to my room. The second I entered the room my best friend launched into a discussion about this evenings events. It didn't take long for the water works to start once more and when I did begin to sob, Shannon held me and allowed me to cry. When I finally went to sleep that night, I dreamt of two fearful, wide-eyed faces.

Those faces belong to Matt and Jonah.


	16. Chapter 16

**Hello, my devoted (thank God), avid (I hope so), wonderful (you know you are) readers. I don't even know where to begin. I've had this chapter written for almost a year now; unfortunately it was on a completely destroyed computer and I have been unable to retrieve it until last week. Now, here it is. A new chapter. I'm so, so, so very sorry for making you all wait and I hope you still enjoy the story.**

**One again, roll call for the awesome readers who have still be reviewing. You people rock my penguin covered socks: **

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**p.s. The last forty or so minutes of the movie take place in one night, for my story it will be stretched over the course of a full day.**

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The haunted faces of Matt and Jonah were embedded in my mind's eye as I tossed and turned all during the twilight hours. I hadn't dreamt of fire for weeks. It seemed that the agonizing scream filled dreams had long left me but tonight they had returned. Frustrated at my lack of slumber, sometime around three, I forced myself out of bed. I made my way down stairs and fixed a glass of milk. Taking a seat at the bar, I sat for nearly an hour simply brooding over the events of the previous month and wondered how it was possible for someone's life to be so altered in the course of a mere few weeks.

Once the glass was empty, I made for the shower. When I was all washed, dried, and once more clothed, the sun was just barely peeking out and a knock on the door echoed through the house. The second the sound met my ears, my body ran stiff. I raced down the steps and swung it open. As I suspected, a member of the Campbell family stood before me.

"Wen, what happened?"

"The house! I-it…it…I don't know!" she brushed past me and entered the foyer. "Uncle Peter came home drunk and-"

"Mr. Campbell drinks?"

"Yeah, h-he used to be an alcoholic. Aunt Sara made him quit drinking when Matt got sick, but listen! Uncle Peter came home drunk and started bitching and ranting about all the lights being on. He took out all the light bulbs and smashed them in the sink but not twenty minutes after he left all the lights came on! And the radios and the televisions! The house was going berserk!" By now, Wendy was in hysterics and Shannon had woken. I glanced at her and she nodded. Together, we followed Wendy across the yard, not bothering to leave a note.

"Mrs. Campbell, hi," I greeted her as we entered the kitchen of her haunted home. "Look, if you want, you can all come over to my house. I mean, stay with us until this is all over."

"That's very kind of you, but…" the strikingly youthful woman shook her head. "I don't think that will be necessary. I called Matt's reverend friend-"

"Reverend Popescu is coming over?" Wendy asked her aunt. Mrs. Campbell nodded, "Yes. He said he'd be here shortly. Would your grandmother mind if maybe, you girls took Mary and Billy over to your house for breakfast? Hopefully by then this will all be over."

"No, ma'am, she won't mind. That's fine," I assured her. Shannon nodded and she and Wendy offered to go get Mary and Billy. I stood, leaning against their kitchen counter, staring at Matt's mother. Though her face was very young, she had clearly seen more than three decades. Worry lines were evident all across the planes of her face. Crow's feet tickled at the edges of her eyes and a perpetual frown dipped the corners of her mouth slightly.

"Mrs. Campbell…" I spoke hesitantly. "Would you mind if I went and sa-"

"He's in his room. The basement," she gave a small, somewhat forced smile. "He might be asleep; though somehow I doubt it."

Without another word, I crept over to the basement door and descended the steps. The long, lanky body of Matt Campbell was strewn all over the bed. His long limbs stuck out from under the thin sheets and his arms curled around his pillow, hugging it firmly to his chest. I quietly patted over and plopped down on the floor next to his bed. Gingerly, I reached up and stroked my fingers along Matt's cheek.

"Matt…Matt, are you awake?" I whispered. The frail boy didn't respond so I sat back and drew my knees to my chest. I held myself close and peered around the dark room. I'd only ever been in the basement a few times and still, I found nothing about it comfortable or even remotely likable. _What possibly could've made Matt want to live down here? _I thought. I shot him a fleeting look over my shoulder, as if I expected an answer. Strangely enough, when I did, his eyes wavered, and gradually opened.

"Hey," I spoke quietly. Swiveling on the floor, I gave a tiny grin. "How're you feeling?"

"Super," he croaked. I frowned at his weakened tone and reached up. I ran my fingers through his hair and attempted to coax him back to sleep. When he told me he wouldn't be able to, I made a mistake and asked why.

Matt pursed his lips. "He's here…that's why."

"Who…?" I heard myself asked. With a slight gulp, I glanced around the room. My eyes darted over every surface, into every crevice of the room but I saw nothing. I hugged myself tighter and faced Matt. "All I see is you."

"I know," he admitted. We sat in silence for a long moment. He was staring off into space at what I could only assume was something I should be thankful I couldn't see. I was humming quietly to myself. I broke the silence by informing him that we'd be taking Mary and Billy over to my grandmother's for breakfast while the reverend came over to help.

I asked, "What's he going to do?"

"Not a clue," Matt replied coarsely. Sitting up, he motioned an empty glass on his nightstand. "Do me a favor?"

"Sure," I took the glass. He pointed towards the bathroom, "Get me some water?"

"Of course." Though I honestly had no desire to leave his side or go anywhere in the basement alone, I didn't protest and pretended to do so happily. I hastily filled the cup and when I reentered the dimly lit room, Reverend Popescu was creeping down the staircase, Mrs. Campbell following suit. I placed the water on the table next to Matt's head as the reverend peered off in the same direction Matt was staring.

"He's here," the elderly man declared. "Do you see him Matt?"

Matt made no move to speak, but nodded. I suddenly felt very uncomfortable. Not knowing whether to leave or sit back down, I stood awkwardly.

"I don't see anything," Sara frantically looked about the space. Reverend Popescu calmed her, "That's because you're strong, you're healthy. You shouldn't see anything."

Slowly, Reverend Popescu moved forward. Every step he halted and peered at something unseen by myself or Sara, who had slipped onto the bed beside Matt and taken him into her arms. My eyes followed the drained man as he pushed his way into the adjoining room. Placing a hand on Sara's shoulder, I gestured the door. She nodded and gazed down at her son. Silently, I moved toward the stairs and disappeared from their sight.

The giant house was even creeper when alone, so I hurried out the door. When I arrived at Nana's only moments later, I was greeted by the smell of syrup. A sickeningly sweet scent, it led me to the kitchen where everyone except Nana sat at the small, homey table which was covered by a variety of food. A basket of biscuits, a plate of eggs, a stack of pancakes, bottles of syrup, jugs of jam, and so on. My grandmother stood behind the stove, flipping bacon, and was the first to notice me.

"Take a seat, Nicolette. Later, we can talk about why I woke up this morning with my girls missing from their beds and no note, alright?" Despite her kind tone and the smile she flashed at the visiting Campbells, Shannon and I twitched in sync. Nana can be vicious when she feels the need.

Slipping into a vacant chair beside Billy, I caught his eyes. The beginnings of a purple haze shown under his sleepy lids. Tightly, I offered a smile. "She's a pretty great cook, huh?" I asked as I started shoveling food onto my plate; though my appetite was minimal and I most likely wouldn't eat, it seemed rude not to. Billy agreed and Nana brought over the sizzling bacon. Then, she took a seat across from me.

Breakfast went by alarmingly slow. Wendy attempted to make small talk with Nana about Goatswood. That lasted only a few minutes, after which Mary proceeded to ask why Matt wasn't over with them. Instinctively, a lie left my lips. "He had another doctor's appointment this morning."

She accepted this immediately and continued nibbling on a grape jelly smothered biscuit. Billy, however, wasn't so naïve. He peered at me, sadness plastered on his face. Guilt flooded my senses. I've been neglecting my young friend. To make Billy smile, and also change the subject, I suddenly recounted the first day Billy and I met for the group. Leaving out the part where the kid got a facial makeover, I described him hitching a ride and how I instantly grew fond of him. The youngest Campbell male took over then. Jubilantly, he explained that he was super nervous accepting the ride because I was so snaky and intimidating. Nana chided me when the story reached its climax of me helping Billy to break into their house.

"What? I couldn't just leave him locked out. Anyway, blame Gabriel and Thomas-" I defended myself before Shan cut me off.

"Yeah," she nodded with alacrity. "They're the ones who taught us how to do that."

"If I teach you how to load a gun, that doesn't mean you go out and shoot it!" the elderly woman replied.

"Please do not give Shannon a loaded gun," I muttered, causing Billy's laughter to fill the air.

"Just because you know I'd shoot you first," my best friend glared. The rest of the group simultaneously erupted with giggles and the mood was lightened, if only for the moment.

Soon, only scraps remained of the meal and dirty dishes littered the kitchen. Shannon and I opted for clean-up duty while Nana gave the Campbell crew a tour of the house to look at various works of art after Mary pointed out some of my paintings hanging down the hall.

"What do you think is going on over there?" Shannon asked the second the troupe disappeared. Assuming she meant the situation at the Campbell home, I shrugged, "Reverend Popescu was poking around in the basement when I left."

"Isn't that Matt's room?" Gravely, I nodded.

We finished the dishes in a worried silence, all the normalcy of the meal steadily fading away.


	17. Chapter 17

**The last line of this chapter is a line from the movie but I changed it. Arrogant? Yes. Necessary? Also yes. I think it sounds much better, maybe that's just me. Anyway, enjoy the update, guys. I hope people are still reading. Review! (Please.) **

When Sara Campbell appeared on our doorstep and assured us that this chaos was over, I couldn't help but feel an unsettling twinge of doubt. Hastily, Mrs. Campbell thanked my grandmother for "babysitting the kids" while she "took Matt to a last minute doctor visit" before she asked if we wouldn't like to join her and her family for dinner that night. Nana graciously accepted as Sara retrieved her son and nieces. When they departed, Shannon and I attempted to follow (Shannon out of curiosity and myself out of concern) but we were stopped immediately by a tiny, angry woman shaking her wrinkled fist.

"Oh, no you don't. Stop right there, Nicolette Shae Sanders. Get your scrawny butt back in here this instant. The same goes for you, Shannon Elizabeth," my grandmother quipped. Our tails tucked firmly between our legs, we met her in the foyer. "Just what in the world were you two thinking sneaking out this morning?"

My best friend and I spent the next twenty minutes getting lecture by Nana. She went on and on about the strangeness of our behavior here of late and demanded that next time we left without telling her or leaving a note we'd both be grounded-despite our ages. She followed that up with a few color threats on how exactly she planned to carry out the aforementioned groundings if we tried to disobey her.

Once her throat grew sore, she waved a dismissive hand and sent us on our way.

Knocking on the Campbells door, I shot Shannon a nervous look and noted that the reverend's car was gone. "Do you think it's really over?"

"Hell no. Do you?"

I didn't have time to answer as the door swung open revealing a short girl with pigtails. My eyebrows furrowed in disapproval. "Mary," I chided, entering the house. "Are you supposed to open the door?"

The little girl shrugged, "I don't know."

The house was quiet. Shannon's voice broke the stillness, "Where is everyone?"

"Aunt Sara is upstairs taking a shower. Billy's playing catching in the backyard. And sissy and Matt are in the basement," Mary replied. She toyed absentmindedly at one of her pigtails. I watched as she lifted a few loose strands to her lips. When she began chewing on her hair, I smacked her hand away, taking it in my own.

"Come on," I tugged her along. "Let's go outside and play catch with Billy, okay?"

We led the youthful girl out back and coerced Blondie into keeping her preoccupied for the time being before we dashed down to the basement. Matt and Wendy were sitting on his bed. The pair of cousins did not seem too surprised by our interruption.

"Hey, guys," Shan waved. My eyes swept the room of their own accord, "What happened?"

"The reverend found Jonah's remains. They were in the cremator-" Collectively, we winced at Wendy's words. She swallowed, "He took them."

"He said it should be over now," Matt weakly continued. "That Jonah's spirit could finally be at rest or something…he also said that after events like these there can be like, tremors…small supernatural events. Kind of like aftershocks of an earthquake. But that we shouldn't worry about them."

"Shouldn't worry?" I echoed, frowning. "Easy for him to say. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," he grimaced. "Tired of being asked that."

"Sorry," Shannon scoffed. "Talk about killing someone with kindness."

"Shut up, Shannon," Wendy laughed. "I'm just so glad it's over. No more freakiness. No more dead people. No more nothing!"

A bittersweet smile graced Matt Campbell's lips, "At least that's the plan, anyway."

"Since when have those worked out for us?" The room grew quiet at Shannon's words. With a sense of dark foreboding, we looked at each other. A motley crew, we had grown close over the passing weeks, especially in recent days, and now, we seemed to be able to read one another. None of us truly felt like the Campbell house was safe; yet, we all wanted to pretend.

* * *

Much like when the Campbell's first moved in, I asked Matt to take a walk with me around the suburban neighborhood. This time, rather than walk in an awkward silence two feet apart, we walked hand-in-hand allotting the lengths of our bodies to press together.

"What will happen at the end of the summer?" I asked softly. I felt the tall boy glance at me, "What do you mean?"

"I mean what happens when I go off to college. What will you do? What will _we_ do? Let's just assume that all this supernatural mumbo jumbo is finally done. Let's say that the summer finishes out and we still feel that same way about each other. What then?"

I pulled him to a stop on the corner of Omar Av and Pittman Rd. Plopping down on the lawn, which was covered with weeds and desperately needed attending, I waited as he joined me. I curled my arms around him, resting my chin on his shoulder. We sat in silence for a moment. My eyes closed, I listened to his shallow breathing.

"I don't want to chalk this up to a summer romance, Matt," I whispered, a slight mist gathering behind my eyes.

"Neither do I." His hand found mine; Matt laced his fingers through mine before he sighed. "But you have to realize that I still might not…that things aren't just going to…what I mean is-"

"Life sucks. Yeah, I get it," I bit my lip. My grip around the fragile boy slackened. "I wish I could be with you and that we'd met sooner. Gah, I hate how cliché that sounds."

"I quite like clichés," he whispered roughly, his lips pressing into my hair. "They usually end well for all parties involved." Suddenly, my hands were in his and he was pulling my mouth to his. In a gentle caress his lips brushed mine. Butterflies erupted instantly in my stomach. We kissed until the sun began to set and when we finally stood to return home the grass was indented where we'd sat. Matt's arm wrapped around my shoulders, we trekked home and the sensitive boy walked me to my door. Once again he cupped the back of my neck and drew me to him, he the flame and I the moth. This final kiss was much more aggressive, powerful. He hungrily claimed my mouth and marked me as his. This kiss left me weak in the knees with a heat burning in my chest. I wanted more, so much more.

He withdrew but I couldn't let go. Clasping his hips, I pressed another kiss to his grinning mouth and felt his smile widen. "I wish you could stay," I spoke, my voice an airy breath.

"Even if my mother would let me, I'm sure your grandmother would shoot me."

"Well there's that…"

Matt smiled softly at me, cupping my cheek in his thin hand. He gingerly kissed my forehead before running his thumb over my bottom lip. "I love you, Nicolette."

"I love you too, Ghost Boy."

Moments later I sat with Nana at the fireplace. My head was in her lap and she was stroking my hair, curling the ends in her fingers like she used to do when I was a little girl. As we watched the fire I felt tears blurring the edges of my vision. I sniffled, willing them away. Nana's hands grew softer. "I wish you'd just talk to me, sweetheart," she said.

"I don't want to lose him, Nana," my voice quivered. I cleared my throat. "What if he can't beat the cancer? These last few weeks have been so taxing and I don't-"

We both ignored the crack in my voice. Tears leaked from my eyes, dripping down the sides of my cheeks to pool on the fabric of Nana's sweatpants.

"He'll beat it, baby girl. Just you wait and see."

"But what if he can't?"

"Didn't I just say he would? Child, you need to clean out your ears and learn how to listen."

"Nana…" I chided her joking, sniffling yet again.

With a sigh, she lifted her hands from my hair to wipe away my tears. "I know, I know…"

After a light dinner of salads and lasagna, I made my way to my room. I took a seat in the center of my bed, my eyes trailing around the cluttered mess. Really, the space looked more like a studio than a bedroom. Blank or half-finish canvases littered the floor, paint trays and brushes scattered across the dresser and side tables. A few completed works hung on the walls and doors. The curtains and bed sheets had various paint splatters and even the window pane had a drop or two. Staring at the artsy jumble, I felt a sudden sting in my heart.

Immediately, I crossed the room and lifted a blank canvas onto the easel. I gathered some fresh paint and reached for a brush. Quickly, I dashed to the kitchen where Nana and Shannon playing cards. I retrieved a cup and filled it with water, flashing the duo a forced smile, before retreating to my room once more. Placing a stool in front of the easel, I dipped the brush into the water, then some paint, and began to lightly color the white space.

When Shannon finally joined me Matt's face had been outlined, his hair and ears done. I was now focusing on his eyes, a subject I'd always struggled with.

"Wow," my best friend whistled. "That's great, Nic. Looks just like him. I mean, I don't think Tucker's hair is so light but-"

"I can't believe you just said Satan's name in my presence," I growled, flicking her with water. "Be nice or I'll paint you."

"Liar."

"Try me, retard."

"You're so touchy these days," she joked, flopping onto the mattress having changed into her pajamas. "Say, will you be done anytime soon? I'd really like to go to sleep before morning."

"We have a couch."

"That's all the way downstairs."

"You know the way," I murmured. I was beginning to grow annoyed with Matt's eyes. A frustrated scowl rose to my lips as I dropped the brush onto the edge of the easel and sat back to study my work. My nose scrunched. "It looks nothing like him."

"Please. It looks so much like him I thought it was photograph at first."

"Liar," I repeated her earlier statement.

"Insecure, much?"

With a sigh, I slipped off the stool and flicked off the light. I slid into bed next to Shannon and raised my arms over my head. "I hate painting eyes. I can't ever get the depth. Why must it be so difficult? Ugh."

"I can't paint at all if that makes you feel better."

"Yes, but you can dance."

She shrugged. "There are some moves I can't do."

"Not according to Julliard."

In the dim light that spilled in through the window I could see her smile. "That's true." A yawn sounded from her lips as she snuggled deeper into the layers of blankets. "Hmm, well, goodnight, Nic. See ya in the morning. Sleep well. Say your prayers. All that good stuff…"

"G'night, Shany."

Soon her breathing grew heavy and a light snore echoed off the walls. Despite my yawns I didn't fall asleep immediately. Rather, I tossed and turned for quite a while before finally falling into a dreamless slumber. Unfortunately, this slumber didn't last long as a rough pain in my shoulder snapped me away.

"Whaaa…?" I questioned, disoriented.

Shannon was hovered over me shaking my shoulder brutally. There was a panic stricken expression splayed on her face. Her brow furrowed and lips dipped into a frantic frown, she called my name repeatedly, her voice growing louder by the second.

"I hear you! What?" I barked. Pushing myself up onto my elbows, I abruptly froze as a chilling sound pierced my ears. Sirens. I hissed, "Shit."

"It's Matt," Shannon wailed. "He…he…"

"What?"

"I don't know."

We raced across the street, Nana slowly following. We reached the house just as Matt was being pulled out on a stretcher. My eyes widened immensely. Every single inch of his body that the eye could see was covered in…writing. The words were indistinguishable but it was obvious they'd been cut into his skin, letter by letter.

"What the hell?" Shannon shot me an incredulous look.

"Oh God," I heard him moan. Suddenly, Mrs. Campbell appeared in the doorway, her purse in hands. She scrambled down the steps and rushed to her son's side. She mumbled caring words to him over and over as they lifted him into the ambulance. I watched, a sick filling building within me, as she wiped her tears and moved to her car. Sara didn't acknowledge us as she left, following the emergency vehicle.

Suddenly, a cold hand was on my arm. With a squeak, I jumped. "Relax," my grandmother soothed. "Come on, let's go check on those youngin's."

Wendy was seated at the kitchen table, Billy and Mary curled up together on the couch. Billy was telling her a story as the young girl sucked her thumb in her mouth. My face softened with the love I felt for the kid. He was strong. Smart. Good.

"Wen, what happened?" Shan asked.

"W-we don't know. One minute everything is fine and everyone's asleep and then next…he just kept screaming and when we r-ran down stairs he was just _covered_ in those…those scars!" One moment Wendy is crying and the next Nana had her arms wrapped around the small teen, reassuring her that everything was going to be fine.

"Why don't you all come over to the house and I can whip up some hot cocoa for everyone," the kind, elderly woman suggested. Wendy ran her fingers threw her hair before drying her eyes, "Thank you but…I think we should just wait here for Aunt Sara. Mary's kind of freaked out right now and Billy's trying to get her back to sleep."

"Are you sure? Well, then we'll stay over here with you."

"Mrs. Sanders, you don't have to do that," Wen shook her head. My grandmother waved a dismissive hand, "Nonsense."

"She's right, Nana. You should go home and go back to bed. Shan and I can stay with them until Mrs. Campbell returns," I rubbed her shoulder. I could see the sleepiness wearing in her eyes. With another gentle nudge, I walked her to the door ignoring her quite protests. Taking her arm, I led her down the stairs and back to the house. I returned to the Campbell house shortly, having snagged a jacket and shoes.

I slipped in noiselessly and joined my best friends at the kitchen table; Billy and Mary were nowhere in sight. Wendy had her head lying on the table, Shan rubbing her back. I could hear her quietly mumbling.

"He says it wasn't him," Wendy explained after she'd collected herself. "But…if not him then who?"

"You don't think it's over either," Shannon noted, flashing me a knowing look. "It's this house, man."

"The reverend fixed it, though. This should all be over," I gritted my teeth. I placed my face in my hands, my fingers grasping at the tips of my hair. This isn't fair. Why can't they let him have peace in his remaining days? What if he doesn't make it and this is how his life ends, being haunted and driven insane? My lips began to tremble; I felt my jaw clench. "I can't do this," I heard myself say. "I can't lose him. I c-can't. I can't stay with him knowing that at any moment he's going to die. I can't do it. I won't."

"Nic-"

"No!" I wailed. "It's not fair!"

"Nic-"

"Why does he have to be sick? He's a good person; he's kind and sweet and caring. He…he's perfect and he's too good for me and I know that and now he-"

"Nic-"

"…is going to die and I cannot live-"

"Nic! Oh my God!"

My jaw hung open at Wendy's sudden shout that had her jumping from her seat. Eyes wide, I hesitantly asked, "What?"

"Is that Matt?" Shannon questioned as she and Wen moved to the window. My heart leapt, "Matt?"

Joining them, I almost vomited. Matt Campbell, clad in a pair of hospital jogging clothes, was crossing the lawn with a determined stride. The words on his skin we fading slightly, nearly gone. He looked shallow, empty. And he held an ax in his hand.

"Oh God," I gasped.

"Shannon, get Mary and Billy. They're upstairs-first door on the right. Get them out, please," Wendy instructed as she hurried to the door. Bolting it, she turned, "What do we do?"

"I-I don't know! What do you think he-" wants? I was going to say. As it was, at that particular moment a loud thwack sounded and the blade of the ax sliced through the door.

"_Wendy!"_ I screamed, reaching for the dark-haired girl. I pulled her against me, the sudden scurry of feet pounding down the stairs. I was only vaguely aware of Wendy dragging me behind her as she followed Shannon, Billy, and Mary out of the house. I was highly aware, however, of Matt's agonizing demands of us to leave.

"No," I spoke. I snatched myself free of Wendy, pivoting on my heels. "Matt!"

Instantly, we locked eyes and his deep orbs told me all I needed to know. He wasn't crazy. He was trying to set things right. "Matt, don't. We can-"

"Save it, Nic," he cut me off. I watched, paralyzed, as he dropped the ax and strode over to me. His gait was powerful, stunning almost. Soon his lips were on mine and I felt dizzy with confusion. One moment he was kissing me, the next he was slamming a door in my face. When had we gotten outside? As I stared hopelessly at him through a window, his impassive mask slipped.

A slight frown dawn his lips as he murmured a heartbreaking request, "Don't let them put out the fire."


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's note at the end this time. Read on, my lovelies. **

My stomach clenched tightly as realization dawned on me. Soon, the haunted home before us would be gone. Beside me, Shannon was screaming. She ordered Wendy to alert my grandmother and call the authorities. Billy clutched his weeping younger cousin tightly to him. Through his own panic, he attempted to comfort her. Mary's wails snapped me from my trance. I racked my brain, frantically glancing around.

An image clouded my mind unexpectedly. It was an old movie I'd seen, in which two teenagers break into a high school basement to steal test answer documents. Swiftly, I rushed to the back entrance of the house. A window sat off to the right of the porch. It was low to the ground, the window in Matt's basement bedroom. Turning, I pressed my back against the house and lifted my house slipper clad foot. I took a deep breath and kicked. Glass shattered around my ankle. I winced as I felt it knick my skin. Kneeling, I picked out the remained shards of glass from the frame before lowering myself and slipping inside.

The second my feet hit the floor of Matt's room, a shiver ran over my skin. The muscles in my stomach strained even tighter. Pure evil inhabited the room and I felt it. Gathering my resolve, I bounded towards the staircase. I took them two at a time, racing to find Matt. This task was easily accomplished as loud crashing and hacking sounds were echoing from the dining room.

"Matt!" I shrieked. Piles of overturned furniture paved way for me and soon I was face-to-face with the cancer ridden boy.

"Nicolette, go," the beautiful boy croaked. All around the room broken furniture was strewn. The walls were crumbling, giant ax-formed holes, demolishing them. The worst sight, however, was not the chaotic mess nor my steadily dying companion, but the bodies spilling from the within the foundation of the home.

Tears swelled in my eyes and I shook my head. "No. I'm not leaving you. You're not going to kill yourself. You wanna burn it down? Fine. I'll help. Then we'll get the hell out of here, okay?"

"No, Nic," he growled. "Go."

The sheer determination in his weak face was evident. But I refused to budge. Playing off his illness, I challenged, "Make me."

"Nic," the eldest Campbell son sighed.

"No, Matt! You aren't going to kill yourself!"

"I'm already dead!" he screamed. The sound reverberated through my veins. My lips tremor as I replied, "No. You are not." The strength I'd found was slowly slipping away. I resorted to begging. "Please…please don't ask me to watch you die."

"I told you, Nic," he groaned. "I told you…you shouldn't have gotten into this. I'm not good for you. One way or another, I'll die."

"But not today," I argued before the distant shrill of sirens broke the heavy tension. "Alright. We need to hurry. What do I do?"

Defeated, but clearly torn, he pointed to a shoe box on the floor, sighing. "The pictures-spread them out over the bodies."

Inwardly, I cringed. Outwardly, I pushed aside my squeamishness and did as he instructed. As I tossed the photos here and there, Matt took bottles of strange smelling liquids and threw them all around the room. Each time they shattered against the walls, the liquid would spew and spatter.

"What is that?" I asked, tilting my chin toward a broken bottle at my feet.

"Some of Aikman's embalming fluid. For us, gasoline," he answered simply. He bent and retrieved a small, familiar box. Gently, his long, frail fingers lifted the lid. From inside, the eyelids glared at us. I frowned as he flicked his wrist and sent the box's contents flying. The slivers of shriveled skin landed on the floor in heaps. He tossed the box on a nearby corpse. Soft yet gravely, he spoke, "Come here."

The distant sirens were now louder. I could imagine the scene outside. Shannon and Wendy distraught. Mary and Billy in tears. Surely, the Campbells would have arrived by now.

When I reached Matt's side, he grasped my hand and lifted it to his lips. He kissed my cheek next; then, he pressed his lips to my temple. "I need you to go now."

"Are you joking?"

The sirens were deafening now. As I met the cancerous boy's eyes, it was clear that we both knew it was now or never. Begrudgingly, Matt pulled out a pocket light. He'd father a bundle of rags. Quickly, he informed me that they'd been dipped in the embalming liquid and asked me to step back. He flicked open the lighter. The first rag caught fire. Matt dropped the rag on a cluster of bodies. Instantly, the fire took with a swoosh and enflamed the bodies and the nearest wall. Rag after rag, he lit and spread the fire. Soon, the house was going to be completely engulfed in flames.

I was mesmerized by the dancing hues of orange, yellow, and red. The unbearable heat clung to my skin as my eyes followed the flames that licked the room. To escape the heat, Matt peeled off his shirt before starting to tactfully make sure each and every body was being burned.

I stood there like a statue, astonished. Flames surrounded us. The smell of burnt flesh penetrated my nose and the heat pricked my skin. Yet, still I stood unmoving.

Suddenly, shimmers of black and white began to materialize in the air. They swirled and gathered, forming the shadows of bodies. A harsh scream escaped my throat. Upon my shriek, Matt spun around. His expression mirrored mine and he seemed at a loss. The spirits turned on him and began to close in. The mass of bodies began to cave in on the eldest Campbell son. In a panic, I yelled for him and pushed forward. Like mist, the shadow spirits dissolved and disappeared. I collapsed on the floor next to a now defeated boy. "Matt? Matt, baby?"

Gingerly, I brushed my fingers over his skin. The tips swept across his cheeks and forehead. His eyes fluttered but remained closed. "Matt," I whimpered. Due to the rapidly growing fire, the foundation of the house began to crumble. With a rush, I realized we had to get out. Roughly, I shook Matt's bare shoulder. "Matt! Matt! Wake up!"

Though he regained consciousness, my efforts were to no avail. He was too weak to move. An abrupt crunch and snap of the ceiling sounded and part of the roof caved in. Giving a squeak, I snatched up Matt's arms and tugged. The flames were climbing the walls. It was all so overwhelming. Matt's dead weight was too much for me to pick up so I attempted to drag him, all the while avoiding corpses and furniture scraps.

Slowly, we crept toward the entrance. I aimed to get us out through the door but just as we got to the hall, the ceiling collapsed. We were trapped. Between Matt's weight, fear, and the exhausting heat, I fell.

"Oh, Matt," I moaned, pulling him toward me. I began to whisper apologies to him, pressing kisses over his skin.

"Help!" I shouted desperately. I knew the police had to be here by now. Firemen too. With a grit of my teeth, I screamed again, my throat growing raw. Every second that ticked by made me feel weaker until finally, everything was black.

The next few hours would always remain fuzzy for me, as if a memory from years before. I would vaguely remember begin lifted into the ambulance. I would numbly recall hearing voices I thought to belong to my grandmother and Shannon. I would attempt to remember being poked and prodded by EMTs. I would try all of this, but fail. The only thing I would truly be able to grasp was waking up in a hospital bed, Billy at my side.

"Hi," he murmured quietly. "How you feeling?"

"Super fantastic," I groaned, attempting to sit up. Blondie flashed me a grin, "There's the sarcastic Nic I've come to know."

"And love, I hope," I gave a weak laugh but quickly stopped as it gave me a rushing headache. Lifting my arm, I rubbed my temples, snagging the IV in the crook of my elbow. "What happened?"

"You and Matt both passed out just as the firemen got to you. The doc said it was from all the smoke you two inhaled. Matt's fine, by the way. He's in a room down the hall. They've got him on a breathing machine to help try and clear some on the junk out of his lungs, but other than that they aren't majorly concerned. You, however, should be worried. You won't be able to paint for a few weeks," Billy frowned.

My eyebrow rose, "Why?"

The skinny kid lifted a finger.

I followed its path to my right arm, which was currently wrapped in a white cast. Instantly, I tensed. No, no, no. As if sensing my devastation, Billy snorted, "At least you're not dead, right?"

"I think I've been rubbing off on you too much, kid."

"Kid? I'm not that much younger than you. Plus, that just means you'll get gray hair first."

"Point taken," I nodded, fingering the IV. "Where's Nana? And Shan?"

"Shannon and Wendy are at your house with Mary. Your grandmother's out in the hall talking to the doctors. Mom and dad are with Matt."

"But you're with me," I noted. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

I shook my head. "No, really, Billy. Thank you. I know I've been…well, a total dick these last few months but everything has been so terrifyingly insane. But I want you to know that I love you, Billy. You're an amazingly great guy and you're the best friend anyone could ever have. I'm proud of you, Blondie; I hope you can forgive me for being such a tool lately."

"You are already forgiven," he beamed. I motioned him to me and when he stepped up to the bed, I managed to hug him awkwardly. When he pulled away, I ruffled his hair before flopping back against the nasty hospital bed.

"You should probably get some sleep. The doctors want to keep you and Matt overnight for observation; you might as well rest. Doesn't that help you get better quicker, anyhow?"

"Something like that," I yawned, shivering as a cold chill hit me. "Do me a favor? Can you see about getting me another blanket?"

"Sure thing," he complied, slipping out of the room. He returned moments later with a white blanket and an extra pillow in hand. I reached for the blanket, but he pulled away, tossing the pillow on the couch under a window on the left wall of the small room. Unfolding the white comforter, he shook it out. Billy threw it in the air, allowing it to land over me. He gently tucked me in.

I couldn't help but smile at the sweet gesture.

**Kind of short, I know; this is for a number of reasons but mostly because I really like the ending and feel as if it should just stop there for the time being. Beware Summertime Suspense is almost over. Sad, I know. I'm going to miss it too. Which leads me into the next matter…**

**IMPORTANT NOTE: We have almost 160 reviews for this story. I want to aim for 200. There isn't a lot of Jonah in this story and I know a lot of you are displeased with this fact. Here's the deal: if we can get to 200 reviews I'll write one or two Jonah-centric one-shots. The user(s) with the most reviews can be the OC in each one-shot. **

**I hate bribery; I think it's stupid, especially on here, but because I feel like the ending of this story is so abrupt, this is more of a gentle push in the direction of reviewing. Anyway, I hope you liked it. Let me know what you think! Love! **


	19. Chapter 19

The following morning when I knocked on Matt's door I was met with an eerie silence. Pushing the door ajar, I stuck my head in to see his sleeping form beneath layers of thin, white hospital sheets. A faint grin lifted the edges of my mouth. I maneuvered the metal pole that connected to the IV in my arm into the room and moved to the chair beside his bed. Taking a seat, I gazed out the window momentarily before fixing my stare on the cancer ridden boy.

"Oh, Matt…" I mumbled softly.

Even in his sleep it was obvious that the eldest Campbell son was exhausted. Small nicks and cuts still graced his skin here and there. His hair was wild, sticking out in various directions. A pout rested on his lips and his eyebrows were furrowed, stiff. I wondered briefly if he was dreaming. Then, I hoped he wasn't dreaming about the fire.

I pulled my legs up to my chest in the chair, the cast on my arm uncomfortably biting into the exposed flesh of my thigh. My fingers curled under my chin. I allowed my eyes to dance over him. It wasn't too long before I found myself drifting off to sleep.

"_I'm already dead!" Matt screamed._

_The first rag caught fire. Instantly, the fire took with a swoosh and enflamed the bodies and the nearest wall._

"_I told you, Nic," he groaned. Soon, the house was going to be completely engulfed in flames. The unbearable heat clung to my skin as my eyes followed the flames that licked the room. "I told you…you shouldn't have gotten into this. I'm not good for you. One way or another, I'll die."_

_He kissed my cheek next; then, he pressed his lips to my temple. "I need you to go now."_

_The spirits turned on him and began to close in. Suddenly, shimmers of black and white began to materialize in the air. A harsh scream escaped my throat._

"_Nic! Go, Nic! Nicolet-"_

"Nicolette?"

"What?" I snapped awake, my eyes scanning the room in fear.

Matt's eyes caught my own. He frowned. "You were…whining, almost screaming in your sleep. What are you doing in here? You should be in bed."

"It doesn't matter. We'll be released soon," I murmured, wiping the corners of my mouth and eyes from sleep. I gathered my hair and pushed it back, sighing. I faced Matt. "How are you feeling?"

He managed to crack a grin. "Like I got hit by a semi-truck."

"Do you…I mean, have you seen _him_ since…the fire?"

Of their own accord, his eyes swept the room. "No."

"Good. Does this mean it's over?"

"I don't know, Nic…let's hope so."

We sat in silence.

Upon returning home after our release I was met with a tearful Nana who lectured me and wept until nothing more could be said. Two days later Shannon left for Julliard. She assured herself that I was safe and then promised to call every day and write at least once a week. Her goodbye was very difficult. Things grew even more difficult, unfortunately, when a letter from Brown arrived, reminding me that campus dorms would be available soon.

"You can't stop your life for some boy, Nicolette," my grandmother chided the morning my letter arrived. Though her words were stern, her tone was hesitant, soft. Our eyes met across the breakfast table. The corners of her crows-feet covered eyes wrinkled sadly. With a sigh, the elderly woman set down her fork and peered at her plate. "I know you two think you're in love, and sweetie, who knows, you might be. However, he _is_ sick-"

"You think I don't realize that?" I crocked. "Of course, I know he's sick! He's dying, for Christ's sake, and we're both helpless to stop it. Now I have to leave him and I told him, I _told him_ I didn't want to do this! I knew this would happen. But he couldn't take no for an answer. He's just now accepting that this isn't going to end well-and I have to leave, I know I do, but just the thought of leaving Goatswood, of leaving him, makes me sick to my stomach. I want to curl up and cry and never…never leave."

Nana stared at me, wide-eyed from my sudden outburst. Tears streaking down my face, I stood and swallowed the apology in my throat. I left the house, knocking on the front door of the Campbell home moments later.

Wendy answered. She took one look at me and said nothing; she simply called for Matt. He appeared, frowning. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fantastic," I sniffed daintily. "I need to talk to you."

"Do you want to come inside?"

"I'd rather we didn't."

We sat on the steps. I could see Matt twitching with the want to touch me. Instead, he seemed to gage my grief and kept his hands to himself. "What's up, Nic?"

I glanced briefly at him. The eldest Campbell son had improved in the short time he'd been home from the hospital. His hair looked healthier and had a newer, brighter shine. No longer were his eyes droopy and purple. Also, his skin had lost most of its milky white parlor. I watched him blink; he looked at me expectantly.

My lips parted, but no sound came out.

I threw my head back with a sigh. Resting against the stairs, I gazed at the sky. I barely heard Matt ask once more if I was okay. Ignoring the question, I murmured, "I wish this wasn't so hard."

"What?"

"I'm leaving, Matt. Next week."

"Oh."

"I'll be in Rhode Island. Providence to be exact."

"Brown, right?" I nodded. Matt lifted a hand and ran it over his head, scratching the back of his neck. "Billy told me you'd been accepted a while back."

"What are we going to do, Matt?" I twisted my head on the step to peer at him. The agony in my voice was pitiful. My eyes abruptly stung with a familiar ache and I sniffed, pushing the new wave of tears away.

"What do you mean? You're going to go off to school. I'm going to stay here. It's simple, really," he mumbled with fake nonchalance. Though I knew he was only trying to be strong, hurt pierced my chest. I sat up, glaring at him.

"So that's it then? These past few months, all this insanity, everything that we've been through-none of it matters?"

"Of course it matters, Nic," he moaned. Reaching for my hands, he pulled me closer. "It matters a whole hell of a lot. But what can we do? I'm not going to ask you to stay here for me. In fact, I won't let you. You've got a wonderful, long life ahead of you. Things are still very touch-and-go with me. I can't be with you, not like you deserve, and I won't ask you to wait for me or to try to make it work."

"But what if I want it to work, Matt?" I whispered, squeezing his hands lightly. "I meant it when I said I love you. I know this seems impossible but look at what we just went through! We battled ghosts and worked with the spirit of a boy who's been dead for years! Surely staying together isn't so tough to imagine."

Matt studied me silently, his face a look of pure heartache. A sad sigh left him and then suddenly he was pressing his lips against mine. I felt him drop my hands only to curl his around the back of my neck. He drew me into him, kissing me with a fervent abandon. The kiss, while ardent and loving, was not a kiss of commitment or of passionate declaration but a kiss of sorrow. A kiss of goodbye.

I licked my lips as we pulled apart. He tentatively gazed at me. The caution and pain on his face said it all.

We were over.

My stomach clenched as I felt my lips begin to tremble and my breath quicken. I nodded, a poor attempt to show him I comprehended. "O-okay," I stammered. Moving to stand, I wiped my eyes and backed down the stairs. "Okay."

"Nicolette-"

"No, it's fine…I-I understand."

"Ni-"

With a final glance at the boy I'd grown to love, I sniffed and spoke, "Goodbye, Matt."

**Again, a short chapter! I know, it's atrocious. My apologies. **

**No this is not the end! Nor was part eighteen the end of the story! I was merely letting you guys know that the end if near-I can see that light at the end of the metaphorical tunnel pretty clearly. Expect no more than two or three more chapters. Okay?**

**Major thanks to **Sammie Jo, LaylaDean, xLonexGuitaristx, xXhelenatimjohnnyXx, Pinned back Wings, Cwarnic93 , EyeLuffYou, beba78, DarkFireAngel00 , **and** Elizabeth. **Thank you for your kind reviews and, of course, your avid reading. It's truly appreciated more than you know. **

**Reviews, as always, are loved! **


	20. Chapter 20

_Yale University - Three Years After the Summer of Suspense_

"'_Yale viciously takes down Brown in the debate Olympics second year in a row_!'" Chloe cackled, slapping the newspaper down the glass table. I barely glanced up from the tattered copy of The Jungle Book held tightly in my grasp. The spunky blonde plopped down next to me, a giant grin never leaving her lips. "I gotta say Brown must be bawling right about now what with the fact that their former alum is now helping kick their ass."

"What can I say, Clo? Yale's got better food."

"Oh and the couple'a thousand dollar debate scholarship they offered you had nothing to do with it," she scoffed.

"Nope. It was definitely the food. Plus, I'm not much of a Rhode Island kinda girl. Figured I'd better return home."

We fell into silence as she became engrossed in the newspaper clipping detailing our win; I returned to my novel. Curling the book in on itself, I heard the spine cracking and knew Troy was going to kill me when I returned his book in such a state. The silence lasted a mere two minutes before Chloe threw the paper aside and faced me.

"We're going out to celebrate our victory," she baited. "The whole team is coming this time. So is Michael. Do you remember Mike? Michael Rogerson, he graduated with us. I ran into his sister two weeks ago in the campus store. She's a freshman and was on her way to meet him for lunch. I joined them and…well, let's just say college has worked wonders on ole Mike."

"Fascinating. How long 'til you sleep with him? One night? _Maybe _two?"

"Oh, shut up. I'm not that bad!" she slapped at my arm. Swiftly, I dodged the blow but consequently knocked over the lamp beside the sofa. With wide eyes, I stared at it splayed on the floor. Jumping up, I scooped it off the carpet and set it right. I glared at Chloe.

"If that's broken you're paying for it."

"Am not," she snorted before gathering her things and looping her arm around my shoulders. As she led me back to the dorms, she mumbled, "You should come tonight. I know you're not exactly the 'let's get smashed in a New Haven pub' type but I think a night out before exams will do you good."

"Tempting, honest, but I can't. I promised Shan I'd have dinner with her at Tibby's."

"Convenient, Sanders. Mind if I call and confirm?"

"I'm not lying, Clo. Shannon's coming home to see her parents for the weekend and asked me to join them for dinner."

"Right. Because it's not like you would lie and make up some kind of bogus excuse to avoid coming with us tonight-"

"I wouldn't."

"Because you aren't antisocial at all-"

"I'm not."

"Because-"

"Chloe," I cut her off as we reached my room. Digging the key out of my pocket, I unlocked the door and slipped in. I tossed Troy's book on the counter by the stove and sighed. "I'm not coming tonight because my best friend is free for once. I'm not antisocial I just think that ninety percent of the people here are pompous Richies who need their heads removed from their asses. And, while I would love to join you guys tonight, I simply cannot. Not because I don't want to, but because I have a previous engagement."

The blonde studied me for a moment and then gave a dismissive shrug. "Okay, fine…whatever. It's not like we wanted you there anyway."

"You're too sweet," I shot her a smile. "I'm getting in the shower. If you're staying, don't eat all of the cookie dough in the fridge and don't talk to the roommate. Ele is still furious about your cat pissing on her make-up bag."

Three hours later I was seated in a booth at Tibby's waiting on the Ross family to arrive. I'd arrived slightly early to reserve a table and order drinks. Because Shannon and her relatives are always late I knew to come prepared. Taking a sip of my water, I withdrew Troy's book from my purse. Once more I cracked the spine.

I was just getting to the climax when I heard my name being called. Turning down the ear of the page, I closed the book and looked up, my eyes darting around the immediate area in search of Shan's familiar face. Instead I was met with a slightly comforting blue gaze. A man, who looked to be nearly six foot three, with pale blue eyes and shaggy blonde hair shot me a grin.

"All be damned," he scoffed. Grinning to the short brunette on his arm, he detached her arm from around his waist and made his way over. It wasn't until he was standing in front of the booth that I recognized him with a start.

"Billy? Oh my God!"

Jumping out of the booth I almost knocked over the drinks as I pulled the man before me into a bone crushing hug. "Holy Christ, you're a giant."

"Growth spurt summer of junior year," he blushed, running a hand through his thick hair. For a moment we simply studied each other observing the subtle, or in his case not-so-subtle, changes time had tolled. He looked so much like his brother. A jolt of fear racked my body.

"Hi! Wow, how are you? H-how's your family?"

We both heard the un-asked question: is Matt still alive or did the cancer finally win?

"I'm great, actually, and they're good," he smiled softly. "Dad's been sober for two and a half years. Mom's bakery is finally taking off. Wendy and Mary are good too-back with their mom. And Matt…well, he misses this girl he met one summer."

My heart fluttered beneath my breast. I nodded, "So he's…"

"The cancer all but disappeared not three months after you left."

"I went to college, Billy; I had to leave." A pout slipped onto my lips. I glanced around Billy's enormous frame to the girl standing shyly behind him, patiently waiting. "Who's the cutie?"

"Claire, my girlfriend. We're here for our four-month anniversary," Billy grinned, tossing the small, brunette girl a loving smile.

Giving a scoff, I smacked his arm, "Well go spend it with her! We can catch up later."

"We can catch up now! I haven't seen you in three years! How long are you in town for?"

"I live here. I go to Yale."

Billy shook his head, chuckling. "Brown not good enough for you? Why am I not surprised. Well, your tough standards aside, you look good, Nic; really good. How've you been?"

"I've been…good," I giggled at the repetitiveness of our conversation. Claire glanced up at the sound of laughter, catching my eye, and I suddenly felt very rude. I swatted at the kid's chest, "You should go. Your girlfriend's waiting. Don't let me keep you."

"Can I have your number? Maybe we can meet for coffee or maybe you can swing by the house for dinner one night. I know everyone would love to see you again."

The thought of seeing Matt again caused an unpleasant bolt of energy to ricochet through me. My lips twitched and my stomach clenched. Still, looking at the beautiful, and now massive, smiling boy before me, I couldn't help but grin back. "Sure," I heard myself agree. "A get together sometime would be nice."

Reaching into my purse, I pulled out my checkbook. Ripping off the edge of the cover, I then dug for a pen and sloppily scribbled down my number. After a quick and slightly awkward goodbye, I returned to the booth, praying that Shannon would be there soon.

Three days later I found myself curled up with my General Communications text book, highlighters and note cards splayed on the wooden end table beside me. A pen was stuck between my lips, hanging out of the corner of my mouth. My foot was tapping impatiently as I reread the last paragraph of chapter six for the third time. Suddenly, a familiar brunette stuck her head out of the bedroom door, the phone in her hand.

"Nicolette, it's for you," muttered my roommate. Ele twirled the black phone cord around her tiny fingers, smiling at the voice on the other end. Daintily, she cupped the mouth of the plastic phone. "He sounds cute."

Cocking a brow, I took the phone from her, mouthing 'thanks'. "Hello?"

"Nic, hey!" a bubbly voice flooded my ears.

"Hi…I'm sorry, who's calling?"

"Billy, its Billy."

"Oh, Billy, hi. Um, how are you?" I put my back to my roommate, leaning against the frame of her door. As Billy and I spoke I realized how little he'd changed since we'd first met. He was still uneasy about my sarcasm, still highly exuberant, and still loving. The conversation carried on effortlessly. We chatted for nearly an hour simply catching one another up on the past three years. When the phone began to grow hot against my ear, I attempted to subtly end the call.

"Are you free Tuesday?"

"I have a morning exam but after I suppose…why?"

There was a paused. "I'd like to have lunch, if you're free." Billy's tone was tentative, light. I smiled despite myself and agreed.

The lunch was just as carefree as the phone call had been. Billy chose a little café on the edge of Goatswood, where his mother and father still lived. Apparently Matt had moved out two years ago and gotten an apartment with one of his old friends from high school. Much to Billy's credit he managed to smoothly bring his older brother into the conversation every other topic or so. A subtle mention here, a light fact there…Billy Campbell sang his brother's praises.

"How was he after I left? Were there any problems with…" I trailed off, glancing around in embarrassment. Blondie caught my drift, "No; after the fire he stopped seeing things completely. No more ghost whispering, no more nightmares. He was normal. Well, as normal as Matt can get."

I gave a gentle grin. Staring down at the coffee mug in my hand I conjured an image of the sweet boy. Billy nudged my joined hands. Softly, he spoke, "He misses you, you know."

Glancing up at the blonde, I frowned. "Why didn't he call or write me after his cancer went away?"

"Because you left him, Nic. Was he supposed to believe that just because he felt better you'd take him back?" Billy bit. His brow was furrowed in anger and as I looked at the furious expression on the younger male's face I felt my jaw drop.

"Is that what he told you? That I dumped him because of his sickness?" When Billy didn't respond, I continued, my eyes beginning to sting. "He left me, Billy! He broke up with me! He felt guilty because he was sick and didn't want me to see him die so he broke it off the week before I left for Brown. He wouldn't talk to me…he wouldn't…Oh God. Huh."

"Wait, he ended it?"

"Yes."

Billy shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "He never said what happened. Wendy and I just assumed…"

"That I'm a horrible person and left your brother because of the cancer? Super, Billy. That's great. I'm so glad your opinion of me is of the utmost stature." I quipped. Snatching my napkin from my lap, I threw it on the table. Swiftly, I brushed away the single tear that began to trickle down my cheek. "I loved your brother, Billy. I wanted to stay with him, to try to make it work even though I was going to be so far away. But I understood and I wasn't going to force him to be with me…"

I just can't comprehend why he wouldn't contact me after he got better. If the cancer was the only thing keeping us apart you'd think he would've…but maybe the cancer was just an excuse. Oh well," I finished sadly. Shooting Billy a tight lipped grin, I waved over our waitress and requested the bill.

"I'll get it," muttered Billy. Before I could protest he snapped, "Shut your mouth, Nicolette. I asked you out, I'll pay."

A proud smile slipped over my lips. "Thank you."

Billy drove me back to my dorm, insisting that I should have called him to pick me up rather than taken a cab to the restaurant. The drive was quick and nearly silent. When we finally arrived at the campus, he took my hand and squeezed it softly.

"Matt is an idiot, Nic," he practically whispered. Shifting slightly, I looked at him and was surprised by what I saw. Billy was looking at me, his eyes sweeping lovingly over my frame. His expression was sorrowful and heart-rending and when our eyes met my stomach knotted uneasily; the sad shimmer in his eyes was unmistakable.

"Oh, Billy."

"It's quite alright, Nic. I knew the day you drove me home that you'd never look at me the way you would a guy like Tucker or the way you did at Matt. I knew I'd never be more than a little brother or a good friend to you and I accepted that, but my brother is an idiot for ever letting you go." Billy lifted my hand and pressed a gentle, lingering kiss on the back of it. "I really like Claire and I know one day I could grow to love her, so don't feel sorry for me, but I don't think I'll ever forget the girl who broke up with her boyfriend for punching me and then broke into my house."

We gazed at each other for some time. Finally, I gave a sad smile and opened my door. "I should go."

"Give me a call sometime, okay? Maybe one day I'll let you pay for lunch."

"I'd like that, Blondie," I grinned. Reaching over the gearshift, I pulled the colossal boy into a semi-awkward but strong hug. "I'll see you around."

I was halfway up the steps of the building when I heard his deep voice ring out, "I'll let Matt know you say hello."

**Alright, kiddies, one chapter left! I wish I could say I'm going to be sad to see this story end but Summertime Suspense and I have had a very rocky and rough relationship. Still, you all have been wonderful. Thank you so much for the reviews, favorites, and support. You're all ridiculously amazing and I wouldn't do this if it weren't for you. **

**Review? Yes? **


	21. Chapter 21

**Here it is, the final chapter. The end. Enjoy. **

For days I laid in bed regretting the fact that a week after my lunch with Billy I'd be coerced into agreeing to have dinner with the Campbell family. Dread filled my being, consuming my every facet as the date grew closer. The night before the doomed dinner I called Shannon and demanded her presence.

"Part of me is surprised you're actually going through with this. You must really love him-ow! What the hell? What was the for?"

"Loved. I loved Matt," I grumbled.

"Denial."

"Dick."

My best friend dove into my closet with all the grace of a dancer. She resurfaced half an hour later with an overflowing bundle of clothes in hand. Tossing the garments on my bed, she spun on me placing her hands on her hips. "Alright, get naked."

One blush and a smart comment later I began to strip. Shannon had snagged three dresses, two jean-blouse combos, and one skirt-and-shirt outfit. I immediately nicked the jeans and slipped into one of the dresses. Three hours later I finally chose. The dress was a light pink with a deep back and V-neckline.

"It looks nice. Hugs the curves just right."

"It looks okay," I frowned, smoothing down the dress. I could see Shannon's reflection in the mirror behind as she swept up behind me to play with my hair. She lifted it this way and that before letting it fall gently on my shoulders.

"Matt's not going to know what hit him. One peek at you and he'll regret breaking up with you for the rest of his life."

Shan stayed the night and woke with me early the next morning. She helped tame my hair and apply my make-up once I'd showered. Then, she made me breakfast while I had a slight panic attack. When the doorbell finally rang I took a deep breath, receiving a confident smile from my best friend. Billy greeted me with a warm hug detangling the second he spotted Shannon. He launched himself at her. They exchanged quick pleasantries as we left.

"Nervous?" the young, handsome Campbell asked as we pulled into the driveway of his family's new home. I caught the humor in his eyes and pursed my lips, "No."

"Liar. Come on; it'll be fine."

Billy the kid held my door open for me. He guided me down the cobblestone walkway. All of a sudden the front door of the house swung open and a blur of brunette locks and green eyes dashed down the path. Wendy nearly knocked me to the dirt with the force of her hug. Teetering in my heels I giggled returning her embrace.

"When Aunt Sara told me you were coming over for dinner I had to gatecrash." She squealed. Wendy looked fabulous, almost exactly how she did four years ago. Hints of physical maturing dawned her face. Smoother cheek bones, clearer skin, deeper laugh lines…but she was still beautiful. I suspected she always would be.

"How are you?"

"I'm wonderful," Wen grinned, looping an arm around my shoulder effectively tugging me out of her cousin's grasp. She shot Billy a triumphant smirk. The blonde gave a scoff. "Okay, you'll get her until we get inside and then she'll be all Matt's."

Flushing I went to deny his words but Wendy, with a roll of her eyes, beat me to it. "Oh, shush. Let me have my moment." She turned to me. "How've you been? You look great! Billy told us you go to Yale now. What happened to Brown?"

I shrugged, "Yale had more to offer; a better debate team mostly."

The house was beautiful and modern, a polar opposite of the former Campbell residence. Sara and Peter Campbell were in the kitchen. Peter gave me a friendly smile and quick hello. He lifted a platter of steaks. "I need to take these out to Matt. Excuse me."

"Of course." Of their own accord my eyes trailed after him. I stared at the screen door he disappeared through – the only barricade between me and Matt. Mrs. Campbell snapped me out of my reprieve almost immediately and started to gush over my dress and haircut and how much time had passed since that fateful summer.

"Mom's right," Billy's deep voice rumbled. "I meant to tell you that you looked stunning back at your apartment but Shannon distracted me."

"Yes, she's good at that," I smiled. Wendy inquired about the wellbeing of my best friend. I responded, laughing quietly when Billy stole a bread roll off the dining room table only to have it smacked out of his hand by his mother. Mr. Campbell came stomping into the kitchen, announcing that the steaks should be done shortly. A calm chatter flowed amongst the family. Most of the conversation was about or directed to me. I tried my best to keep up but found I was distracted by the back door.

A gentle hand was suddenly on my forearm. "Go say hi, honey," Mrs. Campbell gave a soft smile. "Go on. It'll be easier if it's just the two of you."

"Oh…I wasn't…I mean…" I sighed, fiddling with my hands. The wise mother sent me a knowing look and swatted me out the back door. I did as she instructed. I sucked in a rapid breath, freezing on the door mat. The grill was across the deck, a mere ten feet away. Matt's back was to me as he stood flipping and poking the steaks as they slowly cooked.

From behind he looked…different, but the same. He appeared to be the same height but stood taller. The natural slouch that all but defined him was gone. He now stood defiantly. His hair was the same blonde but a little shaggier. He-

As if sensing me, he placed the tongs on the empty plate and pivoted, cutting off all thoughts. The air in my lungs rushed out as quickly as I'd sucked it in. "Hey, Matt," I croaked. His beautiful face was expressionless for the briefest moment. Then, two pale, thick lips spread in a tender grin. "Hey, Nic."

In that second I felt like I was going to cry. So many things hit me at once. Every ounce of that summer came tumbling back, slapping me in the face. Every kind word, every scared confession, every kiss, and a single goodbye. Jaw clenched, I watched Matt cross the open space and wrap me in his arms before I could spare a blink. Immediately I wound my arms around his neck and squeezed for dear life.

Matt's grip had improved. He was impressively stronger now. Sniffling, I swallowed a few tears and gave a nervous giggle. "Let me look at you."

He was still pale but in a pleasing way. The permanent bags were missing under his eyes and there was a glowing aura about him. The beautiful boy was as spectacular as ever.

"You've been working out," I teased, dragging my fingers down his bicep.

"Nicolette, you look-"

"Are they ready, son?"

Awkwardly, we separated, glancing at Mr. Campbell who stood in the doorway. His mouth was opening and closing like a fish. Matt spoke to his father, "Yeah, dad, almost. I'll bring 'em in – just a second."

Mr. Campbell nodded, then grunted and shuffled back inside, "Right. Uh…sorry."

Passing tense smiles Matt and I joined his family at the dining room table. I pretended not to notice the subtle looks they were giving Matt. Mr. Campbell said grace and the dinner began. The meal went smoother than I had any right to expect. Why had I been so nervous? They were good people. People I knew and trusted, people I had once loved. After the steaks and potatoes and salads were consumed Wendy and I helped Mrs. Campbell clear the table while the men stored the grill back in the shed.

"Dinner was excellent, Mrs. Campbell. Truly. Thank you. And thank you for having me."

"Nicolette, please, call me Sara," the woman smiled.

"You should stop by more often," Wen cut in. "She cooks like this constantly."

"When do you need to be back?" Billy asked, appearing at my side. I looked at the round clock hanging by the pantry. My lips twisted into a frown. "Soon, actually. Is that okay?"

The youth's lips dipped. "I'm supposed to get a call from Claire in about twenty minutes. I could take you later but, oh, wait. Dad volunteered me to fix Mr. Tedman's lawnmower." Billy frowned, the expression looking more than exaggerated when he suddenly perked up. "Oh, I know, Matt can run you home. You don't mind, right, Matt?"

His older brother popped up to my left. "What?"

"See, he doesn't mind."

"Billy," I warned. Mrs. Campbell sensed my distress. She stepped forward, "Wendy, darling, could you-"

"I have to get back to New York before the last ferry to Staten Island. I don't have the time, sorry, Nic," my old friend smiled.

Nostrils flaring, I glared between the cousins. They were grinning like fools, proud that their obvious set-up was working. Eyes narrowed, I mouthed 'I hate you' to them both. Ten minutes later I was sharing goodbyes and found myself in the car with Matt. He glanced at me, "I'm sorry about that."

"About just that?" The question poured from my lips, me powerless to stop it. "They mean well." I blushed and gazed out the window.

We rode in silence the rest of the way there. We'd just passed the sign for my apartment complex when Matt mumbled something.

"Pardon?"

"I said no…that's not all I'm sorry for."

"Matt-"

"Please, just…let me say this because if I don't I'll live the rest of my life knowing that I hurt you and wasn't even man enough to apologize." He parked the car in front of my building. With a sigh, I invited him in.

"Do you live alone?" he asked, hand rolling over my living room mantle. He picked up a wooden frame that held a photo of me, Shannon, and my cousin Gabriel. A smile twitched on his lips. He placed the photograph back and faced me.

"I sincerely hope you haven't become a serial killer in my absence," I poorly joked. I played the part of charming hostess and offered him a drink. He politely declined and we settled down on my love sofa. Worry not, the irony was not lost on me.

"I know nothing I can say will change how things ended that summer. I'm stupid; I know that but Nic try to understand the situation I was in. I loved you but I thought I was dying."

"Oh, Matt," I interrupted. "I understood that perfectly. You were scared and that was fine. I couldn't force you to be with me. What I don't understand is why you completely cut me off. Four years and not a single phone call or letter. Whenever I tried to contact you I was ignored. You didn't tell me when you went into remission! Do you know that for the last four years I've been terrified of answering the phone? Every time it rang I stopped to think, 'This is it. This is the call letting me know that he's dead.' Why couldn't you just speak to me?"

Matt stared at me with wretched eyes. He folded his hands in his lap and dropped my gaze. "Because it was too hard. It took every bit of self-control I had not to beg you to take me back that second. Nic, I was so in love with you. I thought I was protecting you. If I had tried to speak with you, even just once, my resolve would have been demolished."

My lips quivered. I could feel the swell, the tingling of tears in my eyes. I didn't want to do this. I wanted to get up and run. It was too hard.

Suddenly, Matt reached over and caressed my cheek. He wiped my tears on his jeans and when our eyes met I saw that he too was crying. Matt's lip parted. He spoke in a tortured voice. "By the time the cancer was gone I was too scared to call. I was afraid that you'd be with someone else…engaged or in love. I was a coward."

"It's been four years, Matt," I weakly admitted. "And I've been on three dates." Sympathy and pain flicked in his eyes. I shrugged, "When I told you I loved you I meant it. Love isn't something I take lightly. It wasn't easy getting over you…"

"I am so sorry."

The beautiful by took my hands in his. Pain shook me. The action was too familiar. I tore from him and stood, breaking. "You should go."

"Nic-"

"No!" I cried, saltwater tears falling faster. "I can't do this. Please, Matt, I need you to go. Please, leave."

"You really want me to go?" He looked suddenly like the boy I'd fallen for. He wore the kicked puppy pout, eyes miserable. I nodded rapidly, "Yes."

I walked the boy who used to mean so much to me to the door. He paused just as he was leaving. He pinned me with a sad stare. "I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am, Nicolette. I never wanted this; I never wanted to hurt you."

"I know," I shakily mumbled, wiping my nose with my shirt sleeve. "I'm sorry, too."

"Don't be," Matt sternly spoke. "You have nothing to be sorry for. You saved my life that summer in more than one way. I'll always be grateful to you. And I'll never forget you."

I bit my lip. "Bye, Matt."

Matt Campbell cupped my face. He stroked my cheeks with his thumbs and through wet lashes I peered pathetically up into eyes I longed to get lost in. His lips were on mine. Harsh, unforgiving kisses were exchanged. Lips, teeth, and tongues clashed in a furious passion. I clung to him until I was gasping for air. Tearing from him, I took several labored breaths. Matt pulled me to him once more. He brushed stray hairs and tears from my face. A kiss was pressed to my forehead. We hugged, our broken and blistered hearts beating in time – together.

Matt kissed my temple. "I love you, Nic."

A sob wrecked my body as he brushed his lips over mine. This kiss was gentle and loving. Easy, like it used to be.

He broke from me and gazed down with a depressed frown. Once more he grazed my cheek for the final time. "Goodbye, Nic."

He shut the door behind him.

I fell to my knees and sobbed.

**Not the ending you were wanting, I know. I'm sorry but it just felt right. If you want a sappy, cute Haunting fic that ends with rainbows and butterflies read my other story 'We Will Get Through This'. **

**I hope you guys like it and I want you all to know that I am so ridiculously thankful for your loyalty. You are the best readers in the world. You're all so kind and so dedicated. Many thanks. **

**As of now I predict no future Haunting fics...but hey, things change. **

**Love! **


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